Maze
by psychoswan
Summary: AU: Emma thought she was on her way to saving her son when she found herself lost in giant maze. Her only companion, none other than Hook. Now they have to work as a team if they want to escape this world and Emma quickly finds herself becoming more scared of her walls falling down than the creatures that lurk in the shadows. Honestly, it had been complicated enough already.
1. Awakening

**Maze**

**Chapter One: The Awakening**

**_Background Info:_** _All the events up to 'And Straight On 'Til Morning' comply with this fic. This begins where Season 2 ends._

**_A/N:_**_ As usual a short chapter to start off with but they'll probably be longer than this in the future._

* * *

The Jolly Rodger lurched violently as they reached the edge of the portal which glowed green. Emma inhaled deeply. Hook turned back to look at her, catching her eye and sending her a grin. His eyes sparkled with the thrill of sailing. She found a smile rising on her face just before the ship tumbled over the side of the portal, hurtling into the sea. Water rushed towards them and as it crashed it against her face, Emma squeezed her eyes shut.

* * *

When Emma opened her eyes she was greeted by darkness and the earthy smell of rain on soil. However from what she could figure out she was wasn't anywhere near soil. An ominous blue light that echoed down the corridor she was in, allowing her to see the stone walls soaring over her with pipes running along them. They soared high into the distance, so far they disappeared into the black fog above her so she couldn't tell if they reached a ceiling or not. Her face was pressed against cold stone that was slightly moist from the rain she could smell. In her hand was a gun, pressed against her palm. She grasped it. If she had been given it, she was going to need it.

She pushed herself upwards onto her feet. Cool, damp air washed over her, causing a flush of goosebumps to rise along her arms. Her jacket she was now wearing didn't seem to be doing much good. She squinted into the distance and yearned for a flashlight or even better, some idea of where she was. Though she doubted this was Neverland.

After a minute or so of debating, Emma figured she had to get moving. She looked left; an endless corridor. She looked right; another endless corridor. She looked left again. Then to the right. She dug her spare hand in her pocket, hoping to find something useful in them. Her fingers clamped around a coin. A chill gripped her heart, whatever or whoever had caused her ending up here had prepared her perfectly. Was this some sort of test or game?

She held it out in front of her, barely being able to make out heads from tails in the dim light. '_Heads I go left_,' she thought, '_Tails I go right._' She flicked it, the coin shone, reflecting the blue light, it landed in her hand, wet. A shiver trailed down her spine. What the hell? She looked at it nervously; the coin face had Hook's face on it.

In horror, she threw it away from her. The lights shut down the moment the clattering of the coin reached her ears. She was enveloped in pitch black. A moment of silence. Then she heard a click of a gun. Her heart leapt in her throat.

There was someone in the darkness. Emma desperately tried to listen to footsteps over the sound of her beating heart. She moved toward the left slowly, her gun gripped tightly. She was prepared but she felt dizzy with nerves. This would've been a lot easier if she had more light but unfortunately she didn't have that privilege.

She heard a small scuffle of shoes behind her and she spun around. She drew her gun higher, holding it in front of her as she inched forward. "Who's there?" she demanded.

"Hello, beautiful," came the familiar Irish drawl.

Without thinking, her gun hand fell limp, relief flooded her, "Hook."

The lights clicked on. Hook looked worse for wear since she had last seen him and she had to wonder _when_ exactly she had last seen him. For her, it felt like only minutes ago but the clothes he was wearing were scruffy and splattered with mud. His clothes looked similar to what she is used to seeing him in except now he bore a red vest. His face was grubby, his hair damp and messy but his hauntingly blue eyes still glowed.

"You haven't been conscious long, I assume." he asked, echoing her thoughts.

"I just woke up a few moments ago," she replied, still startled at his attire, "And you?" She was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I can't tell," he admitted, "More than a week perhaps? Time runs differently in this world, slower. I can feel it. Similar to Neverland but not quite."

_More than a week._ He'd been here that long? "So I'm right in saying we're not in Neverland?"

He barked a laugh, "Trust me, Swan, you should be glad you're here. Neverland is a lot worse than this maze."

"Maze?!" she screeched, the sound echoed off the walls. She felt something shift in the air, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end.

His eyes latched onto her as she looked from left to right, "You can feel it too?"

She nodded, "There's something in the shadows."

"I don't know if it's the maze playing tricks on us or there's actually something there. It's hard to tell," Hook said quietly as if he was afraid of being heard, "I think that's why I hate it so much because I just don't know what's going on." The words from a Batman film echoed through her head, '_And we always fear what we don't know._'

Emma swallowed, "What do you know about this maze?"

"Not much more than you," he admitted, "I woke up alone and I had this." He indicated towards his gun. "And I had that in my hand and in my pocket I had this scrap of paper which said 'forest' on it. I figure it's some sort of clue," he explained, "Then I had been walking for… awhile when lights shut off and I heard this clattering. I thought- well, I don't know what I thought. I just held up the gun and I was so close to firing at you but then I heard your voice," he finished.

She frowned, "I don't understand something. If this is a different world, why has it armed with weapons and objects from my world?"

Hook didn't look too concerned, "There must be some sort of magic which taps into our minds."

"That would explain the coin," she murmured, half to herself.

"Coin?" Hook asked sharply, "What coin?"

She walked over, picked it up and threw it at him. He caught it with ease. He gazed down at it, turning it in his hand, the space between his eyebrows creased. "What's so special about this coin?"

"First of all, it's an enchanted coin."

"I would ask if it can lead us out but that would be too easy." Was she really making _jokes_?

A ghost of a smile washed over his face as he continued to examine it, "No, but it shows you what your heart needs or requires or something along those lines. I can't be sure, I haven't studied enchantments for a long time."

"Well that can't be right," Emma snapped, snatching the coin out of his hands.

"Why did you see me?" he teased, his eyebrow quirking up and his lip curling up into his typical smirk.

"In your dreams, Hook," she replied, pushing the coin into her pocket. "So I'm the only person you've come across?" she asked, eager to change the subject.

He nodded.

"So the rest of them are scattered across the maze?"

"Or they successfully reached Neverland. There's no way to tell." _What?_

"What do we do? How do we find them? How do we get out of here without a bean? How are we going to get to Neverland now?!"A hint of hysteria had climbed into her voice.

"I…" his voice faltered for a moment, "I don't know how to get you back to your son. I'm sorry."

She inhaled and exhaled deeply but her breath came out unstable. "Emma..." he made a move towards her. The use of her first time made her tense. Memories of the beanstalk flashed through her mind. Guilt hugged at her heart.

"The paper you have. Show me it," she demanded, cutting off his advances.

He hesitated but pulled it out of his pocket and placed it in her hand, his fingers lingering on her palm for a millisecond too long. She scanned it, holding it up to the light. She could see where he hand creased it in his pocket. "Forest," she said quietly before turning to Hook. "You said you think it's some sort of clue?"

"It's the only logical conclusion," he confirmed.

"I think you're right," she told him, handing him back the paper. "I think it's directions."

"Directions?" he asked curiously, tucking it away again.

"We have to find a forest. That will get us closer to getting out of here," she explained, "I know you must think I'm jumping to conclusions but-"

"No, no," he cut her off, "I believe you. I think it's our best bet of escaping but how are we going to find a forest in all this maze?"

Eerily a bird started tweeting faintly in the distance. They met each other's gaze, his eyes contained surprise, excitement and a tiny shadow of fear. She knew her eyes held the exact same expression.

"Did that answer your question?" she asked.

A grinned crept up his face, "Looks like you and I are going on an adventure." Emma rolled her eyes but despite everything a grin was breaking through.

* * *

**Leave a review and let me know what you thought :)**


	2. Like Vines We Intertwine

**Maze**

**Chapter Two: Like Vines We Intertwine**

_**A/N:** I'm so flattered by your response to this story and by only the first chapter! You guys really know how to make a girl smile. 37 follows already- wow._

* * *

They were walking. Together. Alone together once again, it seemed. At first they said nothing to each other, afraid to break the oppressing veil of silence that had wrapped its way around them. But then she had to ask- "You risked so much just to help me. Someone you've only known for a short time. Why?"

He didn't miss a beat, "What left did I have to lose?"

She opened her mouth to say something, something far too intimate. So she closed it again.

"Anyway, you're the only person in the last- what three hundred years? – who's actually thought there was more to me than the revenge," he continued, trying to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal. Except it was.

Butterflies tickled at her insides. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to not care but she did. She wanted to wish she had never asked in the first place but she didn't.

"Too personal," he figured, staring at her sadly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. I asked," she said hastily, avoiding his piercing gaze. When she summoned enough courage to look at him again, his expression had set back into its unreadable mask. Emma yearned to know more about him and about what had moulded him into the man he was today. With every look he gave her, she saw his inner turmoil. His eyes carried the weight of two men, clashing and fighting for dominance.

"I…" she started but soon found the words fading from her lips.

Hook turned to her, eyebrow raised, "Yes, Swan?"

There was a moment in which they stared at each other. A fire begun to flicker in the pit of her stomach. She went to speak again but the words were being stolen by the intense look in his eyes.

He barked a laugh, "Swan, you are full of mysteries."

A smile twitched at her lips, "Coming from the man who said I was an open book."

"Aye, that you are, but there's so much more to you than that." The raw honesty caused fear and an intoxicating excitement to trickle through her. She dragged her gaze from him, turning her attention back to the corridor they were heading down.

* * *

How many hours had they been walking? It didn't _seem _that long but yet at the same time it did. She caught the sigh before it escaped her lips. Hook had offered they take a break more than once already and didn't need encouragement. They couldn't waste any time.

She got so lost in her thoughts of Henry and her family that she didn't notice Hook pull to a halt. That was, until a sickeningly sweet smell twisted itself around her. Inflating her with its scent and making her sway as pink fog clouded her vision. A tendril of smoke clamped around her ankle and begun to make its way up her leg. She was vaguely aware of a panicked voice calling her name.

She began to cough. Each cough burned. The metallic taste of blood was beginning to fill her mouth as the coughs began more violent and painful. The smoke tendril had brought friends which were also twisting around her tighter and tighter. How much time had gone by? Minutes surely, but fear did strange things to time to make sure your final moments lasted the longest.

Next thing she knew, a hand roughly grabbed onto her arm and Hook appeared in front of her, a scarf wrapped around his mouth and his bright blue eyes wide with fear. She mumbled his name dizzily before he started slicing through the smoke with his hook. Once she was free he latched his arm around her waist and dragged her through the haze of fog until they were once again in the cool moist air.

The pain in her throat started to fade and the world came back into focus; the effects reversing themselves. He looked over her quickly before reaching her gaze. A cocky grin reached his mouth, "Now I didn't take you for the damsel in distress type, Swan." She was about to snap back when his hand reached up gently wiped away the blood from the side of her mouth. "How do you feel?"

Her heart twisted.

"Better," she answered, pulling away from his touch.

He stifled his annoyance with a mesmerising grin, "I believe that was the maze telling us that the games have begun." He winked at her, "Let's get going, love."

"I'm not your love."

"Oh really? Then why did you shiver when I winked at you?" Smug son of a bitch.

"Maybe I'm just messing with you." It was a weak response.

"Sure, love."

She growled lowly. He just simply winked at her again. She was beginning to wonder which was more dangerous; him or the maze.

* * *

Emma blinked. Her eyelids were heavy with the drag of sleep. Her shoes scuffled and shuffled as they moved along. Hook sent her worried glances but she ignored them. She clutched her hands into determined fists. She needed to find Henry. How could she stop when Tamera and Greg were doing who knows what to him in Neverland?

She had grown up idolizing Peter Pan, as any lonely orphan would. She had always thought of Neverland as a paradise but the look that crossed Hook's face when he realised where they were going made her think otherwise. She started nibbling her lip. She should ask Hook what it was like some time.

"Swan, we should stop and-"

"No."

"You're practically falling asleep. You need to-"

"_No_."

"_Emma_," he chastised softly. Once again her name threw her off.

She came to a steady halt. "Fine. You take the first watch."

"Oh I'll be watching alright," he said coyly.

She rolled her eyes, "Now you just sound like a creep."

"But you like it because you're kinky like that," he returned, grinning broadly. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, Hook."

"I hear no denial," he taunted.

She gave him a pointed look, "Give it time and you'll _feel _one."

He leaned towards her. "I look forward to it," he murmured, his hot breath washing over her neck and the strong scent of rum engulfed her. Her blood pumped violently in her ears. He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire. The fire from earlier spread up towards her heart.

_Henry. Must save Henry. Cannot let him in. Don't lose focus, Emma. _

She plastered on her signature emotionless mask. "Wake me when you get too tired."

He gave a tight smile and nodded. She could tell he was growing bored of being pushed away. She curled up on the floor, moving until she found a comfortable position.

"Swan, do you want my jacket or sleep on?" he offered helplessly, knowing the answer she would give.

"No, I'm fine." She heard him sigh. "Like you were expecting any other answer," she snapped irritably.

"Doesn't mean I wasn't hoping for one."

She tried to pretend that didn't make her feel something by muting herself and allowed her eyelids to flutter shut. The exhaustion hit her immediately, pulling her down into a dream-like lull.

"One of these days, Swan," she heard him mutter tiredly before she dropped into sleep.

* * *

Her eyes creaked open. For a moment she had forgotten where she was, causing Emma to lurch up in fear. Then something slipped from her shoulders and into her lap, distracting her. She stared at it and her eyes widened. It was Hook's coat.

"You were shivering," the pirate mumbled from the opposite side of the corridor.

"You didn't need-"

"Shut up, Swan," he moaned, crawling onto the floor, "And let me sleep."

A frown creased her lips, "I told you to wake me if you got too tired."

He smiled dozily, "You looked so cute, I didn't want to wake you."

She tried to fend off the growing smile as she placed the coat around him, "Are all pirates insane or is it just you?"

"No," he mumbled into the ground, "I'm just crazy for you, Swan."

"I should have seen that one coming," she muttered, pushing back up against her side of the corridor.

He chuckled quietly before it fell silent. Only moments later did he start snuffling softly. Sleep had returned the innocence to his face, reminding her harshly of all he had been through. No matter how many times she saw people sleeping, she was still amazed by the transformation. He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. It sounded achingly close to her name but she didn't dare hope.

* * *

Something dark flashed out of the corner of her eye. Emma jolted upwards, fumbling for her gun and then holding it in front of her. "Hello?" she called out, hoping for a friendly face to appear out of the darkness. She was greeted with silence and the sound of Hook breathing noisily. She turned around sharply as she heard scurrying from behind her. "Hook," she called steadily.

A growl echoed through the corridor. A cold sweat started to form on her forehead. She dived down towards her companion, shaking him roughly. "Wake up!"

"No Ems," he grumbled, "Jus' five minutes more."_ Had he just call her 'Ems'?_

"There's something in the corridor! Get up!"

"M'kay two more minutes."

Another growl ripped through the enclosed space, this time louder. "Killian, please!_"_

The effect was immediate. His eyes flashed open, still deadly bright in all the darkness. Another low growl. He shot upwards, nearly toppling her over but before she could fall he had hoisted her upwards. A large dog like figure was beginning to ebb its way out of the darkness.

As she stared, a strong calloused hand slipped into her own, pulling her away from the figure and into a sprint. They hurtled through the corridors, making sharp turns and occasionally nearly crashing into walls. Teeth snapped as heavy paws thudded behind them.

It was gaining on them. They weren't going to make it. She looked at Hook for a split second, his eyes met hers. She skidded to a stop, clutching his hand tight to prevent him from running further. She clamped her fingers tighter around her gun.

"Emma come_ on_!"

"We can't outrun it but I can shoot it!" she urged.

He looked unconvinced, "Do you really want to risk it?"

The wolf emerged out of the darkness. It's fur was clotted with blood and mud. It was _huge_. She felt tremors of terror wrack through her body. She looked into its eyes. Cold. Black. Empty. Yet instead of seeing their small bodies reflected in the sheen of its eye she only saw an emptiness.

She gasped, "It's a trick!"

"_Emma_." His voice was laced with warning, trying to bring her away from the big dog.

"No, Hook listen. It's not really here," she explained hurriedly. "Come here, look into its eyes." He hesitated. "Trust me, Hook."

He pressed his lips into a thin line as he studied her. She could feel the wet hot breath of the creature draw nearer. Finally, he moved to stand at her side. He moved his gaze to the wolf. Then, a grin pulled on his lips. "Bloody brilliant you are, Swan."

Suddenly, the wolf burst into a blaze of flames. They stumbled backwards to avoid the scorching heat. Then as quickly as it had started, the fire stopped and ash fell upon the ground.

There was a beat of silence before she was painfully aware of their intertwined fingers. She hastily tugged her hand from his grip. "Let's get away from here," she suggested, not meeting his unrelenting stare and trying not to think about how cold her hand now felt.

* * *

_Review?_


	3. Disappearing Act

**Maze**

**Chapter 3: Disappearing Act**

_**A/N:** Sorry it's been a long while, I got writers block and it took me awhile to actually get to writing this but when I did it just zoomed out of me. I hope you like it and thank you for your continuous support!_

* * *

A heat crawled up Emma's jaw and cold damp air swirled around the nape of her neck. Beads of sweat formed on Hook's forehead and slid down his face. Her hand clutched her gun tight, spare bullets clinked in their pockets. Exhaustion gnawed at her insides but desperation was taking greater room in her mind. The corridors seemed endless. Emma pressed her lips together as the pain in her feet grew. Her lips were dry and chapped. She snuck at glance at Hook and saw even his determination cracking.

"How long do you suppose we've been walking through this maze for?" she inquired, knowing he was more in sync with the bizarre time they now resided in.

He shrugged, "A couple of days. A week at best." His voice was hoarse, she couldn't remember the last time they had spoken aloud. They had worked in perfect silence, understanding and compromising with only looks and sighs.

"It's funny how we're not hungry," she mused, "Was it ever like in Neverland?"

The space between his eyebrows creased as he frowned, his eyes darkening into a bewildered yet irritated expression. Then finally, he shook his head but by then she had already known the answer.

"Curious." She saw him shoot her a look out of the corner of her eye. A single eyebrow cocked up in the form of a silent question. She shrugged, "I'm trying to figure this place out."

When she turned to look at him she found herself locked in his gaze, a grim smile had risen as he calmly said, "This maze seems like a metaphor for you."

Emma found herself laughing, assuming carelessly that he was joking. But as soon as she met his cool expression the bubble of laughter halted in her throat and a nervousness started buzzing behind her ears. "What?" she asked almost inaudibly.

"Impossible to figure out. Walls so high that they seem impossible to climb. Intimidating whilst at the same time exciting. Scares me but also somehow encourages me to keep going, to keep fighting. As if somewhere inside me I know it's going to get it right in the end, I'll get out of this maze, where no walls can stop me," he explained, watching her carefully.

She felt herself lurch away from him though she stayed rooted in place. Her eyes flitted across him, along his mouth which was crushed closed in the anger she knew simmered behind the collected look his stormy eyes. A wash of fear and guilt swirled around her, suffocating her with every unsteady breath she took.

"Your words mean nothing," she declared confidently but she knew from the ways his eyes traveled to her hands that her shaking fingers gave her away.

When his blue orbs met hers again they carried something she refused to believe. It wasn't love but it was achingly close. It was something that had been continuously slipping into his gaze and every time it emerged, her pulse would rocket and her heart would hurt due to the pace in which it was thumping. He dragged out a sigh, "Who did this to you, Emma?" He reached out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

She hissed, wrenching herself away from his presence and sea salt smell, hoping it would help her breath easier. It didn't. She just felt cold. "It doesn't matter _who_ made me like this. It taught me a lesson. Don't trust anyone. They all just leave you in the end. My walls are never going to be broken. Not for you anyway. They are there for a reason. To keep people like you out of my head before I can get fucked all over again."

She didn't have to look at him to know the fury that was burning through him. "You think I would just-"

"Yes! Yes, I do! And nothing you say will ever change that because words are just words. They're easy to say, easy to believe. They don't mean anything," she spat.

"I am so much more than words and you know that," he hissed, "That's why you're scared because you're not used to people choosing you. With your family it's easier for you to accept because they're your family. No one can undo those ties. But me? I'm a stranger, previously a foe. You couldn't possible believe why I would care for you-"

"I don't want to hear it, Hook," she fumed.

"I care about you and I can prove it to you," he insisted, taking an urgent step towards her.

She recoiled away from him, crashing into a wall. "_No_. I don't want you to prove it to me! I don't want you here at all. I want my family, not some messed up pirate who doesn't know which way is up and has spent the last three hundred years murderously chasing after a man he couldn't even kill. _Why_ would I want to be wandering around this death trap with a man like that?"

Regret rushed to her lungs, causing her to breathe in sharply. She took a step forward and went to say '_No, I didn't mean that. That's not how I feel. I need you.'_ But the words never came out.

He stared at her. His blue eyes shone like shattered glass in the eerie light. He inhaled deeply, swallowing the blizzard of emotions that she could see were torturing him. "You know what, Swan?" he demanded, his voice tight.

But before another syllable could escape his lips the lights shut off. Emma's body went rigid as she pressed herself back up against the stone cold wall. Wincing as her shoes scuffled in her haste. Something creaked in the distance. Her breath quickened, who or what was out there?

In the next moment, the air moved ever so slightly, whispering against her cheek, toying with a piece of her messy hair. Then all of the sudden pain crashed into her. The sort of pain of losing someone, the pain in which you're now terribly alone with no one there to catch you as your knees buckle and the tears sting. (A feeling Emma knew well.)

She didn't need the lights on to know what had happened. She let a pitiful cry escape her.

They had taken him.

Her words from only moments ago echoed in her mind, '_I don't want you here at all_.' She hated the Maze. She hated whoever created it. She hated whoever decided to take him away. And before she knew it, she was screaming his name, hollering abuse into the darkness and then finally crying. With no one to stay strong for she couldn't stop herself falling apart. He had been the only thing left which was keeping her together and now he was gone because of her.

Emma felt the self-loathing rise like bile and hurriedly pulled herself together. There was no time to feel sorry for herself. She had just lost another person and she'd be damned if she let this Maze take him away from her. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and giving one last indignant sniff. She needed to be strong, now more than ever and she needed her wits about her. She was in a maze, in a world which she didn't understand with unseen creatures watching her every move and lastly she was hopelessly alone.

"I will find him," she announced to the darkness, rising from the ground.

The lights flickered back on and she begun her journey.

It wasn't very long until she heard someone laugh behind her. It was painfully familiar. She twisted around, throwing her gun hand up in the air, only to find she was empty handed. But that thought immediately left her mind when she saw the face staring back at her. Everything just how it used to be, the stubble, brown curls and taunting grin.

"Graham," Emma breathed, stunned. Her mind worked quickly, reminding her that she watched him die. He _couldn't_ be here. He just couldn't.

"You look shocked," he teased, taking a step towards her. She took a step away. He chuckled, "I know, I know. I'm supposed to be dead."

"You_ are_ dead," she corrected, her eyes dashing around the floor in search for the gun, just in case she had dropped it. It was nowhere to be seen.

He smiled sadly, "Then where do you think you are now?"

She felt her heart falter and then start up again. "Come again?" she stammered.

His fingers trailed along her cheek as she searched his eyes desperately for the hidden lie. "The bean... it wasn't strong enough. It had gotten damaged during the struggle to get it. Most of those on board made it through the portal but you and Hook, you were thrown out halfway through and... drowned." With a saddening thump of her heart she realised he was telling the truth.

Memories flashed through her mind. Wave toppling over her. Bright blue eyes, swimming towards her. Grabbing her, trying to help her swim upwards. Her lungs burning for oxygen. The light going out of Hook's eyes…

A teardrop trickled down her face. Graham cupped her face with his hands, "I'm so sorry." She felt the despair hug tightly across her chest.

"But Henry…"

"You died a hero," he assured her. She nodded bleakly. He dropped his hands and held out his arms, she was about to fall into them when a single thought struck her.

"Hook's still out here somewhere. We need to find him," she exclaimed.

Graham's expression shifted and for a second she swore his expression was suddenly very… not Graham. But in a flash it was gone.

"He'll be fine. Nothing can actually hurt us here seeing as we're…" he trailed off.

Emma shook her head, "Regardless, I need to find him."

"Just stay here, Emma. He doesn't need you," Graham insisted, his tone becoming slightly annoyed.

"I can't, I can't leave him all alo-"

"Emma, he's a pirate. He's used to being alone."

"Why are so adamant on not letting me go find him? It's like you're not even you-" Her words halted.

_Hold on._

"Those memories I just experienced," she began cautiously, "Those weren't really mine were they? ... I'm still alive, _aren't I_?"

The Not-Graham grinned wickedly, "Now that took you awhile." Her jaw tightened. "Though, of course I had the upper hand. Being able to mess with your mind and block that lie detector thing you have going on... But I was still expecting a little more from you, Emma Swan. I suppose lovers have always been your downfall. Love is, after all, weakness. "

She smiled coolly, "Where's Hook?"

"Somewhere only I can go," it answered.

Emma tilted her head, "Not good enough, I'm afraid. Give him back."

A coy smile lit up, "For a price." _Who was he, Rumpelstiltskin?_

"Is that really necessary?" The Not-Graham nodded eagerly. She sighed. "What's your price?"

Excitement bubbled through in a sharp giggle. "Remember when you pointed out that you don't feel hunger?"

Emma swallowed. "Yes."

"I'll give him back to you but you'll start getting hungry again," it crooned with an ugly smile.

She wasn't stupid. She knew what that meant. "I'd never make it out of here without starving to death." The smile only grew on the Not-Graham.

"There is a slim chance you can make it out. _If_ you make it out."

She thought of Henry. He _needed_ her to make it to him. She could never abandon him the way she had been abandoned.

"Are Hook and I the only ones from the ship here? Did the rest really make it? Answer this honestly," she requested.

The Not-Graham leered, "You are the only ones. The rest are now at Neverland."

Her parents and her extended family (Gold and Regina) would do anything to get Henry safe. They would find him with or without her. She thought of Hook. She was the only one who could save him, she was the only one who could protect him right now. And with that thought all rational thought seeped from her. She couldn't abandon him again, not after everything they'd been through. Not when she was his only hope. (And vice-versa.)

"Deal," she confirmed.

Its leer ripened. "Love is weakness, Emma Swan." And once again the lights were off. She felt the air shift and her breath became shallow as she tried desperately hard not to get her hopes up. The lights flickered on and in the misty blue glow there was no mistaking the shocked ocean eyes which stared in awe at her. A smile washed across her face and she found herself nearly leap towards him as if she was going to hug him. But she didn't.

Bewildered, he took a stand of her hair and twirled it in his fingers, the space between his eyebrows creasing once again. She jolted from his touch automatically, regretting it as soon as she did. A ghost smile rose on his lips, now convinced she was real. "How did you bring me back?" he asked in wonder. _Why did you bring me back? w_as the unsaid question.

She couldn't bring herself to tell him. She nibbled her lips as nausea swept across her.

"What did you do?"

Emma couldn't stand how palpable his fear was.

She paused to pull herself away from his pressing gaze. "I made a deal. It said it would let you go if I agreed to feel hunger again."

A moment of silence.

He was processing it.

She could see the wheels turning in his head.

And then when he realised, she thought she knew no greater pain than seeing the look on his face as it crumpled in horror and sorrow.

"You should have just left me," he breathed.

* * *

_Oh my god I just realised that was all one scene without any cuts. _Wow. _Never done that before. Hope you enjoyed!_

_Review?_


	4. Find Your Hope

**Maze**

**Chapter Four: Find Your Hope**

_**A/N:** I have just noticed I obsessively describe Hook's eyes. Not that I'm now going to describe them less, I'm sure Emma is as hypnotized by them as us Hookers are. On that note, let's begin._

* * *

Hook didn't speak to her much after that. Emma would gently try to coax him into conversation by asking him about Neverland or his past, topics completely unrelated to the fact that she had (possibly) sacrificed herself for him. It was after an hour of walking (Emma was growing accustomed to time) that she finally gave up.

"Are you really that mad at me?" she demanded.

"Of course I bloody am," he snapped, piercing her with a fiery gaze.

She sighed impatiently, "Well, for your information, that's not normally how it works out when someone saves someone. Normally the saved person is at least a bit grateful that-"

"I didn't want you to save me. I wanted you to live."

"Well that's tough because I did save you. So suck it up. And anyway, if we're fast enough we can get out before I run out of time," she said offhandedly, trying to avoid the phrase 'starve to death'.

He came to a halt with the snap of his shoes, grabbed her shoulders, spun her around to face him and held her there. "We'd be lucky to get out of here in a month, Emma. We've been walking for a week and we're not any closer to that fucking forest. Do you know how much time_ you_ have? If we assume you still won't need water, you have three weeks before your parents lose you and your son loses you. Three weeks before _I _lose you and I can't-" He stopped himself. Let go of her and sighed, it was sad and broken.

She wanted to ask, '_You can't what?_' but she couldn't bring herself to cause more grief.

"Why couldn't you just let me go, Emma?" he whispered and for the first time her name didn't bother her.

"I..."

She could see the tears gloss over his eyes, completing the ocean illusion. He pasted a fake grin over his mouth, "I know, I know. You heroes and your saving people complex. That's why they call you the Savoir right?"

Annoyance crept into her veins. "Do you really think that's why I saved you? Just because it was the right thing to do?" she accused.

"Yes," he replied bluntly, sending her another cool stare.

"I knew perfectly well what making that deal would mean, Hook. I knew even if we were ever going to find a way out of here, it was going to take a lot more than three weeks. I knew I was putting seeing my family again on the line but I chose it anyway." She felt her heart hammer in her chest. "I have just sacrificed everything for you and… And I don't know what that means, Hook because I'm not the kind of person who does that. I don't trust people, I don't let people in and certainly do not willingly sacrifice myself for a man like you."

He tilted his head, "A man like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

She nibbled her lip, "You asked me, when we first met, if I'd ever been in love." She paused, watching his expression. The hard closed off Hook suddenly melted as he realised just what she was about to do.

She took a shaky breath and then she told him everything, from being abandoned on the roadside to saving Henry. Sometimes she would falter but he made no move towards her, treating her like the scared animal she was.

"…And then I met you the 'scared blacksmith-' she managed to give him a pointed look and he returned it with a chuckle and a flash of his beautiful smile. "-and you know how it played out from there…"

She paused.

"So there's a point to me telling you this, as you might of gathered… Neal ruined me. He took whatever hope I had left and left me with nothing but hate for myself." She raised her green eyes and shivered at the storm they met. "I know you're a man who is capable of so much love because of how long you have tried to avenge Milah." He breathed in sharply. "But I also know you are a man who has ran before, who thinks of himself which makes you capable of leaving someone if it meant you were safe… And that's why I left you on that beanstalk. I didn't want to give you the chance to leave me because I felt something between us and it scared me. Then in Storybrooke you nearly left me there to die-"

"I came back."

A small smile whispered across her face, "Yes. And that's what made it even harder. I had labelled you as a villain so I could avoid you like the coward I am. But then you just had to go and fuck _everything _up. Because now I know you'd throw yourself in danger for me and I don't think I could handle someone caring for me that much because I will just fall so impossibly for you... That's why I push you away and pretend like I don't care because I can't do that. I can't risk it, not again."

Silence hummed between them.

"So what changed?" he asked. She frowned in confusion. "Why are you telling me this? Why have you decided to open up to me and trust me if you're so scared?"

"When I was deciding whether or not to make that deal… As soon as I thought of leaving you to die, every single fiber in my being screamed against it as if it physically hurt to lose you. And that means something. Something I can't ignore anymore."

More silence.

"That's all I can give you now, Hook. I'm not going to suddenly be totally different but I'm going to try and I hope you understand that." She couldn't hold his pressing gaze any longer, she dropped her eyes.

"I understand," he confirmed, his voice soft, "I know how it feels to be scared of love. Rumpelstiltskin crushed Milah's heart in his hands just because she loved me. I spent hundreds of years not only hating him but myself for leading her to her death. I let myself fall into darkness, convinced that nothing good would ever come of me if people died because they loved me."

He took a cautious step towards her.

"You scare me too, Emma. Much like you, I can't bear to lose another person who has come to mean so much to me. And that's why I was so angry with you because your just another woman who has unfortunately cared about me and will have to face the consequences of that."

"Once again I'm seeing myself in you. You're not a monster," she assured him, her gaze locked in his again as she summoned all the courage she had left, "We're one in the same. Bad things have happened to us and we've reacted to them badly but we can't live our lives hating ourselves. That's what finding my son taught me; that even out of the worst situations you can find things you will treasure the rest of your life. Neal broke me but because of him I got Henry and it's because of Henry I have a home, a family and a reason to stop hating myself and start believing I can have a happy ending."

A pause.

"You just need to find your hope," she encouraged gently.

His eyes swam with a dark passion that burned and chilled her all at the same time. He took another step to her, bringing him so close she could feel his breath on her lips. "Be my hope, Emma," he murmured, brushing his fingers along her face.

"I…" She was thrown off by the sudden turn. This was _not _what she had expected.

"Don't pull away. I'll give you your time, love. But you can trust me, you _know _you can trust me." She swallowed, her emotions a blur. He eyed her expectantly.

She breathed in deeply.

"Okay."

* * *

They had only been walking a little while before they reached their next obstacle. The silhouette of a man stood in the middle of the corridor. As his features began to rise out of the murky darkness, Emma noticed that his thin mouth was stretched into forbidding snarl and his small dark eyes were flickering between the both of them. They came to a gradual halt, leaving a wide berth between him and them.

Hook leant over and whispered in her ear, "Assuming he is not aided by magic I could easily take him down."

"That's a dangerous assumption to make," Emma hissed.

He pretended not to hear her as he turned to the man. "Why are you here?" he demanded confidently.

"I have to stop you," the man responded expressionlessly. Hook raised an eyebrow.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" the pirate asked, smirking coldly.

"I have to stop you," came the answer.

Hook chuckled humourlessly, "Do you really think you could take on the both of us?"

"I have to stop you."

Emma saw the annoyance flare through Hook and before he could even take a step towards the man, she grabbed his arm. "Don't. You're not getting anything out of him."

"So what to you propose we do? Turn the other way? I can hear the birds from the forest, it's _straight ahead_."

Emma smiled mischievously, "I _said_ you're not going to get anything out of him. I didn't say we couldn't take him together. We just have to be careful, we don't know what this guy is packing." She paused to shoot the man a wary glance. "Clearly we can't reason with him. Something not right up here," she said tapping her head. "So we're going to have to go with good old fashioned brutality."

Hook studied her for a moment, "Would I be right in guessing the 'good old fashioned brutality' isn't anything new?"

She grinned, almost sheepishly, "Well, I was a bounty hunter for a couple of years."

He chuckled, "You just get better and better the more I get to know you." Emma ducked her head, ashamed at how easily he could make her feel like a blushing school girl.

She was suddenly sobered by Hook touching her arm, squeezing it and silently saying, '_Let's go_.' They had only taken a couple paces when the shadows shifted and the man became two. In sync, Hook and Emma froze.

"Interesting development," Emma acknowledged after a long silence.

"Very interesting," Hook agreed.

Another silence before they turned to each other, silently asking, '_Do we keep going?_' There was always a chance if they got any closer more would appear.

"Well," she began, "It's either keep going _or_ turn back and probably never get out of here." A pause. "Personally, I prefer the first option."

Hook's eyes shone with admiration, "Couldn't agree with you more, lass."

They continued walking. The walk was unnervingly long as the two clones stared unflinchingly at the pair of them. Emma felt the adrenalin pump through her encouragingly. She closed her mouth into a determined grimace and noticed Hook had done the same except his had a glimmer of a grin around the edges.

She planted her gaze onto the clone she was now marching towards, her hands closing into fists. Then they came to life, snarling and yelling as they charged towards Emma and Hook.

Her instincts kicked in and her fist flew towards the oncoming opponent, slamming into his jaw. Without even taking a moment to wince, he had pulled something out of the air and smashed it hard into her temple. A searing pain tore through her sight of vision as she stumbled, surprised by the inhumane strength of the clone. But she couldn't stop.

She grabbed him and threw him towards the wall, head first. He fell to the floor. Though only after a few moments did he give a breathy laugh and look up at her, grinning maddeningly. He wasn't even scratched. Fear pulsed through her head or was that pain? She gingerly felt the sticky blood on her face just moments before he came at her again, with another weapon.

Emma acted quickly, snatching his wrist and wrenching the object from his grip. A dagger. She leapt out the way of his next blow, coming back to back with Hook. A small ounce of comfort swept through her at his touch. That was until she felt his uneven breathing.

"You were right, they _do_ have magic," he said jokingly. _He was actually fucking joking about this.  
_

She opened her mouth to speak but Hook was suddenly gone and her attacker was charging at her. She thrust the dagger into his outstretched hand. He howled in pain and with a thudding heart realised it was only the extremes which were going to cause damage... Another test. Was she willing to kill a man?

His dark eyes slid up to her. Fury and hate shone out of them like lighthouses.

As much as she hated this man and as much as she was eager to cause him pain... she couldn't kill him. She couldn't kill anyone, not even someone brain washed to do the same to her.

But that's when she heard Hook cry out in pain.

Emotions consumed her and she lost control. The corridor lit up with a blinding bright light. She felt it burn from inside her and out towards her enemy and the clone leering victoriously at Hook. She felt their presence lessen as their screams ripped through the open air. She felt suffocated by it all.

Then it was gone. And so was the pain in her head. And the clones. All the remained was two piles of ash.

_Did she do that?_

"Emma," came Hook's hoarse voice, wrecked with awe, "What _was_ that?"

Her arms snaked around herself, physically trying to hold together her emotions. "Magic," she uttered. "I _killed_ them with magic."

* * *

_Thank you for your support towards this fic. You are my hope *wink wink*_

_BTW: I've written a few of the most emotional scenes of the fic already and it H-U-R-T-S. I can't wait to show them to you *cheeky grin*_

_Let me know what you thought; was it feelsy enough for you?_


	5. Never Let Me Go

**Maze**

**Chapter Five: Never Let Me Go**

_**A/N:** Ack, I another emotional chapter! Sorry this one is so short, hope you will forgive me!_

* * *

_"Emma," came Hook's hoarse voice, wrecked with awe, "What _was_ that?"_

_Her arms snaked around herself, physically trying to hold together her emotions. "Magic," she uttered. "I killed them with magic."_

Emma felt it as it slowly work its way through her. Breaking her, ripping her strength to shreds as she felt her body shake. She had lived a hard life, done horrible things but she had never taken someone else's life. She stared at the piles of ashes, her eyes wide and watery.

Hook moved in front of her, blocking her view. He tenderly brushed some hair behind her ear, "Your head is bleeding. You probably have a concussion." He met her gaze, his eyes full of warmth, a weak smile grazed his lips as he said, "I'm sorry I don't have any rum this time."

Her resolve broke as an unquestionable need for him overwhelmed her.

"Killian," she called, her voice shaky, pleading. His arms were around her as her knees gave out. She clung to him, burying her face in his chest, breathing him in, calming herself. She refused to cry. "What have I done?" she mumbled, muffled by the fabric.

"Emma," he soothed, "They weren't real."

She shook her head, "No. We don't know that. And even if they weren't, I still killed them without knowing." His fingers threaded through her hair, bringing her even closer to him. "What does that _make_ me?"

He brought his hook under her chin and lifted her face to his. "Human," he said, his voice as calming as the sound of waves against a sandy shore. "You were put in a dangerous situation, you used magic and didn't work out right. It was accident, with extreme consequences, but still, you never meant to kill them."

"But I _did_. I heard you yell out in pain and every inch of me wanted them dead for hurting you." Hook's bright eyes grew large, his mouth parted in shock.

"Emma…" His gaze had now dropped to her lips and her heart had started beating unevenly. Her eyelashes fluttered, his mouth was now a breath away from hers. Her eyes fell closed, his grip in her hair tightening-

"Killian?" a woman's voice echoed through the corridor and Hook went rigid, wrenching himself from Emma. She turned to look where his startled expression was fixated on and she saw a beautiful woman with long dark curling hair.

She knew who it was even before Hook breathed, "Milah." The cold air was weaving its way around Emma again as he drew further away from her and walked towards his deceased lover. Her heart clenched. This was the woman Hook would tear worlds apart for, dive into Hell for, kill an angel for. This was the woman he spent three hundred years trying to avenge. This is woman who sent him into a tumbling spiral of darkness. This was the woman Killian became Hook for.

Emma's arm flew out and she grabbed his arm, trying to drag him backwards (unsuccessfully). "Emma," he snapped impatiently, "Let. _Go_."

"She's not real, Hook," she urged, "She's just a trick."

His eyes grew dark, the darkest blue she'd ever seen them. A trickle of fear went down her back. For a moment, her grip on him weakened and in those seconds of doubt he pulled his way free of her and was heading to Milah again.

"Hook!" Emma cried but it was halfhearted. Who was she compared his great love? She felt the heartbreak twist and wrench inside her, making her sick to her stomach. Had she really let herself fall for another man who was going to leave her? For an apparition no less.

She clenched her jaw. No. No, she wouldn't let him go. This time she was going to fight. "Killian!" she yelled, "You _know_ in your heart Milah is not there. You lost her when Gold killed her!"

He snapped round to her, his eyes blazing with the fire of a thousand suns. His darkness had made a reappearance.

"_Please _listen to me. You asked me to be your hope, your strength and I'm not going to let you down."

"I don't need you to tell me what's in front of my eyes," he snarled.

She took a step towards him. "Yes, you do."

"You don't understand how it feels!" he exploded, "I can't let her go! Not now, not ever!" Pain shot through her and tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

"I do understand, Hook. I know that it hurts so much you can barely stand and you would give your soul just to see her breath again. So much so, you would believe anything if it meant she was returned to you. I've been there Hook. Remember when I told you about my life? I... I didn't tell you something about me that-"

"Swan, I don't have time for this."

"I fell for a man when I first came to Storybrooke. His name was Graham and Regina killed him. Ripped out his heart and crushed it," she explained, forcing confidence in front of her sorrow.

His anger fell just a little bit.

She took a shaky breath, "And when you disappeared in the Maze. Graham appeared to me. And my heart broke all over again when I realised he was never really there. It was like he died a second time." A tear dropped down her face. "And I'm so sorry that they're doing the same to you now."

He was staring at her, his expression so broken and torn she almost couldn't bear it.

"But you're so much stronger than this. You need don't false fairy tales to get through the day, you get yourself through the hurricane of life. And I'll be damned if I let you lose what I so admire about you," she finished, knowing there was nothing more she could say.

"Emma," he murmured, the spell of rage diminished completely as he moved to her. He was only a couple of steps away when an explosion boomed through the air and threw them off their feet. She heard him cry her name somewhere in the smoke but the sound of a fire overpowered his voice.

When the smoke cleared, she stumbled to her feet and made her way to Killian who's lip was now bleeding. She looked over his shoulder at the fire and, with a jolt, realised what was burning._ Bodies_.

"Killian, turn around," she ordered, her voice strained. His frown deepened and then as he looked at the fire, his expression turned to the same sickening horror which she felt pressing into her throat. Milah was now seated at the top of the mound, smiling coldly.

"Oh, Emma. I think you need your priorities sorted out," she cooed. "You clearly don't know which men are worth saving."

"Not really interested in taking advice from a woman sitting on top of a pile of burning bodies," Emma responded scathingly.

"Well, who do you think killed them?" the brunette queried, her tone light. Emma's heart jolted. _What?_

"What do you mean?" she demanded fiercely, though she feared the answer.

The smile on Milah's face grew until it was unattractive on her pretty face. "Why the man you're so willing to give everything for. Even your_ life_," she spat the last word as if it was poison. "And trust me, living is _so_ much better than dying for him."

"Milah would never say that. She loved Killian," Emma responded snappily. Yet her mind dizzy. _Did he really kill those people?_

"You would know how that feels I suppose," she noted. "Well, actually. Would you? Can you really love a man who killed so freely, all for _love_?"

_I've killed for love. _A voice said in her head but Emma did not have the courage to voice these things out loud. So instead she turned to Killian, who was pale-faced and weary. "Don't listen to her."

He sighed, "But it's true, Emma. I've killed these men, I recognize their faces. How could you stand to be near a man like me?"

"Do you not remember me leaving you countless of times? I suffered when thinking about your dark past but you proved that you're not that man anymore, that you are willing to - and have – changed for the better. This-" She indicated to the fire. "-is horrible. I will give you that. But that person wasn't you, it was Hook and not the man I see standing in front of me. The man capable a great love any woman would be blessed to receive. I have met evil men and you are_ not_ one of them, not anymore," she insisted, grasping his face in her hands. And then her eyes fell to his mouth.

"I'll prove it to you," she promised softly. And then her lips were on his. He froze for a millisecond before his arm looped around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. She melted into the kiss as bright lights exploded across her eyelids. A pulse soared from them, diminishing Milah's cries of protest and muting the crackle of bodies. Ash fell around them like the snow of a cold winter morning. She pulled away. She felt the all too familiar fear wash through her as he stared down at her, his eyes overwhelmingly full of emotion. But she didn't run, he was worth so much more than her doubt.

He leaned in and kissed her again, slowly, gently. She realised that through this kiss he was telling her the words he dared not say out loud. Her fingers affectionately brushed across his stubble as she let the kiss consume her. Her emotions flushed through her so intently she felt as if she was about to explode. She kissed him back, relaying the message he so desperately needed to hear.

She had never thought a kiss could be like this. So much understanding without any words. But she knew, without ever being told, that this is the sort of kiss she had waited her whole life for, that every person strives to find. True Love's kiss.

* * *

After that, the Maze seemed to give them a huge berth. They went four days without any sort of interference as if it was giving them time to process the enormity of finding their True Love. Emma, though, had a feeling it was just biding its time. She could already feel the hunger painfully ebbing away at her and they were nowhere near the forest they so desperately sought. She had a feeling Killian had similar doubts but neither of them were that eager to voice their fears out loud.

The doppelganger fight and the Milah apparition had left them worse for wear which made the travelling even harder. Emma now supported a gash across her face and a burn across her wrist whilst she was confident the cut in Killian's lip would leave a scar and she had seen him limping when he thought she was not looking. But of course he acted as if it was nothing. "I'm a _pirate_, Emma. I had my own hand cut off. I'm sure I can handle a twisted ankle," he had said.

But in the surrounding calm, her mind was a whirlwind. She now had time to fully process the consequences of dying in this Maze, from hunger or from something much more terrifying. She often found tears swelling in her eyes and once or twice he had nearly caught her wiping them away.

Then there were the doubts. _What if we never get out of here? _or _What if there is no forest? _ She tried desperately to push them out of her mind but they always seemed to crawl back whenever she let herself relax.

The only peace she got was when they had settled down for the night, when Emma was on the peak of falling asleep and Killian would press a kiss into her hair and murmur, "Sleep well, my love." In her sleep, she would dream of sailing, of the ocean and of Killian. Then, when she woke up and was greeted with the hellish sight of the endless Maze, she still had a small ounce of hope for the future.

* * *

_You guys are the jello to my Captain Swan :)) so much love, your reviews always make me smile like an idiot and I can't thank you enough for your support._

_**ALSO! I have a huuuge favour to ask.** I'm sort of running out of ideas of what should appear in the maze. I have all the concrete scenes that are needed in the story but I need some time to build up to the next prepared scene so if you want to help a fellow shipmate out, just write in the reviews or message me (on ff or tumblr) anything you would like to see make an appearance in the maze._

_If you could do this I would love you to infinity and beyond!_


	6. Recurring Nightmares

**Maze**

**Chapter Six: Recurring Nightmares**

_**A/N:** fhfrjghdu you guys are amazing! 50+ reviews! I'm also really grateful for how many of you actually took the time to think of anything you'd like to see in the story. I will be, at the end of the chapter, giving credit to those who offered ideas which helped create this chapter in particular. _

* * *

_Emma was walking down an alley of a cobbled street, tightly packed houses towered over her as if they could topple down at any moment. She winded down long curling roads which all seemed identically claustrophobic but she knew exactly where she was going, as if she had walked these streets all her life. She emerged from a particularly grubby alleyway and found herself in a large town square which seemed cleaner and friendlier than the streets before. She threw off her hood, took off her rugged cloak and hung it over her arm. She dusted off her ruby dress, took a large gulp of the fresh air and continued to walk through the square._

_Her golden locks drew the attention of many, who turned and greeted her with warm smiles. They asked about her mother, her father and her sister. One woman handed her a basket of warm bread and assorted cheese, informing her that her mother had made the order just yesterday. Emma thanked her in return. Then a young man gifted her with a wilting flower with bright yellow petals. "Though they aren't as lovely a shade as your hair," he had insisted, blushing scarlet._

_With a warm heart, she passed through the open space and headed towards a wide road dusted with cherry blossoms, it was still cobbled but the surface was lighter (which probably meant it was cleaner). The road lead up to a large, beautiful house with flowers in the window boxes, fountains with roses twirling up the sides, lush green grass and a white wood patio which was all stolen behind a twisted metal gate. Evening was just settling upon the far away mountains when she reached the guard at the gate. She smiled and greeted him – "Good evening, Arnold." He grinned a crooked grin, opened the gate, took the basket of bread and cheese and walked her up to the door. _

_Emma had barely taken a step inside when her mother, brown curls bouncing and green eyes wide, bustled down the stairs. "Emma! I was so worried, you know I don't like it when you stay out late!" _

_She was about to reply when her mother's expression shifted over Emma's shoulder and turned stony. "And who is _he_?" _

_She turned and lounging against the wooden frame of the door was a man, with messy clothes, ruffled dark hair and inquiring blue eyes that watched her lustfully. A frown tugged down her mouth, "I… I don't know." _

Emma jumped awake. A chill washed over her as she looked around blearily. "What's wrong, love?" came Killian's voice from the opposite side of the corridor.

"I... I don't know," she answered, brushing her hair out of her face. "I think I had a bad dream but I can't remember it."

"Then it's not a problem," he insisted, placing a cool kiss on her forehead. "We better get going."

She nodded absentmindedly as she allowed him to lift her to her feet as she racked her brain for memories of the dream. She had a strange feeling about it, not of fear but of horror. The moment she had woken up the first rushing thought had been, '_How was that possible__?_' Something had shocked her, horrified her and it was something she had done. Something undeniably _wrong_.

"You still thinking about that dream?" Killian asked as they begun another long day of walking. She nodded. "It was just a dream, love. Though, I'm sure it was a lot nicer than this hellhole."

Emma smiled but she wasn't too sure if that was the case.

* * *

Emma had found after a couple of days the pain and the craving for food had ceased but the sense of a heavy fatigue was slowly making its way through her as her body began finding other ways to get energy. But like that was going to stop her getting back to Henry.

She was wrenched from her thoughts of home as Killian came to a stumbling halt. Emma's head flew up, her senses on high alert. Hanging in the air was a small fairy with fluttering crumpled wings, dull green eyes and red hair which was twisted into a messy bun.

"Who are you?" Emma demanded.

The sad eyes reached Emma and with a sigh she said, "I'm Briar. Messenger fairy of the Winterglow Fortress."

She quickly looked a Killian to see if he knew where and what that was but he looked as clueless as her. "What happened to you?" she asked, wary that this was just another trick.

"I was making a delivery to Lord Harthorn when I discovered his darkest secret. I tried to escape back to my world to inform the others but he found me and in his anger, he imprisoned me here," the fairy explained.

"Who's Lord Harthorn?" Emma inquired, "Is he in control of this place?"

The fairy looked at Emma with semidetached interest. "I'm not supposed to tell you. But I can help you. It is part of my punishment, you see. I was provided with a way out of the Maze but I cannot use it myself. I must help another person leave the Maze whilst I stay here, forever."

It was as if a weight was lifted off her chest. "You have a way out?" Killian blurted, his voice brimming with heavily controlled excitement. He, like her, was not too eager to get his hopes up.

Briar nodded. "But I assume it will be of no use to you."

Emma frowned. "Why not?"

"It can only be used on one person and you two seem quite... attached." Disappointment rushed through her veins as hopelessness acted like a weight on her spirit.

"I understand," she said quietly at the same time as Killian announced, "I'll take it."

Icicles shot into her heart like a thousand tiny knives. She inhaled quickly as the all too familiar nausea swept through her. Her mouth moved to form unheard words, she didn't know what to say, if there was anything _to_ say. So she just stared at him, yearning for some explanation.

He didn't glance at her as he held out his hand to Briar. The little fairy swept her eyes over the scene pitilessly before handing a small vial to Killian. "You drink it all and you will be transported out of the Maze to wherever you wish to go." He grasped it in his hand and pulled out the cork as the fairy disappeared with a pop.

"What the _hell_?!" She seemed to regain the ability to speak.

Killian turned to her, he almost look surprised as if he had forgotten she was there. "_What_, Swan?" he demanded, his tone impatient. She almost winced.

"So you're just going to leave?" She hated the way her voice broke on the last syllable.

He arched his eyebrow, a merciless smirk gracing his lips. Something unpleasant jolted in her stomach, Killian had never looked at her like this. "It was amusing, watching you fall over my every word. Did you actually think I could care for anything but revenge, lass? _That's_ why I offered my ship and the only god damn reason I stayed with you in this Maze is because two heads are, most often, better than one." He paused. "And despite your tiresome personality, you _are _quite something to look at."

Emma was shaking. From rage or hurt, she didn't know. But hadn't they shared True Love's kiss? Surely that-

"The Maze is very deceptive, Swan. I was impressed myself with the whole 'True Love' crap myself. But I wasn't fooled, I could never love you," he sneered coolly as if he could read her mind.

"Then go," she spat, her usual defense mechanisms kicking in.

"If you insist," he drawled, pulling the vial to his lips. When the last drop had touched his tongue he exploded in a blinding jet of light. Leaving her in darkness.

* * *

Emma spent, god knows how long, standing there. Hands balled in firsts, tears swelling in her eyes. Unable to get her mind around the idea that another man had left her... No. That wasn't what she found hard to believe. She couldn't believe _Killian_ had left her. His story just didn't add up. Maybe she was being vain but she had been so sure she was – she barked a laugh through her tears – _special _to him.

She was a fool for thinking she could change Hook and bring back Killian. Hadn't she seen how many men he had killed? What's breaking someone's heart to taking a life? '_It would have been more merciful to kill me_,' Emma thought miserably. She winced at her words, loathing how pitiful they sounded.

But then she remembered something. His cold lips on her forehead. Weren't they always burning hot, sending sparks along her skin? And when his fingers had slipped between hers it hadn't incited the usual warmth and comfort they usually did. Then his final look at her. _He had never looked at her like that._ Not even when he was 'done with her' when he left her in Rumpelstiltskin's cell.

She felt the realisation plunge through her like a lightning bolt. _That wasn't Killian. _

"Killian!" she yelled, her voice bouncing off of the walls. She waited on tenterhooks. A pause of silence and then-

"Emma?!" He was a distance away but she was already running. She could hear him also rushing towards her. Her heart was lifting, she laughed with happiness. She turned a corner, teetering slightly on her heel.

Then she saw him. Her feet couldn't carry her quickly enough but finally she slammed into him, her arms coiling tightly around his neck as his own twinned around her waist. They fell into silence, breathing each other in. She heard him mumble her name into her neck, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair. Her eyes closed as she fell into the comfort of being in her arms.

"Did they replace me with some sort of doppelganger who left you?" Killian asked eventually. Emma nodded. His expression turned sour, "That was cold, even for the Maze." He paused. "But I'm too relieved to bother about that now, not like we can do anything about it anyway."

A momentary silence fell upon them as they stared at each other, drinking in the sight. "You didn't leave me," she murmured. He brushed his fingers along the side of her face. His melted blue eyes seemed to be lit from behind. Then his mouth was on hers, hard and passionate.

"Never," he breathed in between kisses, "I will _never_ leave you."

* * *

_The bedroom window flew open, the sound of the storm entered through the room. But the wash of cool air did nothing to the fire burning between them as his mouth planted kisses along her jaw, down her neck and finally back to her mouth. Her fingers were tightly knotted in his hair as he lifted her off her feet, her legs wrapping around his waist as he slammed her against the wall._

_He groaned deep in his throat as she pressed herself further up against him. The smell of the rain mixed with his own intoxicating smell, leaving her senses thoroughly aroused. _

_"So you'll marry me then?" he asked, slightly breathless as he emerged from the kiss, a cocky grin splayed over his face._

_She looked up and met his gaze, amber eyes staring back at her. A smile blossomed over her face. "Of course I will, Gabriel." Then his mouth was devouring her own again and she let herself be consumed by it._

Emma gasped, her eyes flying open. The memories of the dream were falling, slipping between her fingers as she desperately clawed at the images that were fading from her vision. But there was no use, she was left with nothing but the uncomfortable feeling there was something very, very_ wrong _about the dream she had.

Her eyes trailed over Killian, who had fallen asleep at some point. Though since the 'wolf' attack, nothing had bothered them during their sleep so there wasn't much need to keep watch. She guessed the Maze found it more amusing when they were wide awake and full of energy to burn.

She ran her fingers through his hair, skimming them across his bruised face. He snuffled in his sleep, murmuring and grumbling. Yet even in slumber, when her fingers moved down to touch his, he grasped them, a wash of relaxation softening his expression. She curled up next to him and closed her eyes. As she was about to tip over the edge between awake and asleep, Killian murmured, "Emma."

The effect was instant. Emotions swarmed at her, lifting her and filling the empty holes in her heart. She allowed herself to be enveloped in the moment, letting the happiness buzz in her ears. She felt it all around her, through the warmth of his body and beating of her heart. Whatever that dream had been, it was long forgotten.

That was until Killian lurched awake, gasping, eyes wide and glassy as if he had been crying. "Killian?" He had thrown himself upwards, breathing heavily. "Did you have a nightmare?"

He turned to her, the space between his eyebrows crinkling. Then his face contorted, the oddly pained expression tightening.

"Killian?" she asked again, worry ebbing into her voice.

"Who's Gabriel?"

* * *

_Special mention to: _XoxPhoenix10_ and _Wildirish7_ who both mentioned evil doppelgangers in their suggestions! For those who's idea(s) wasn't used in this chapter, I haven't ignored you, everything has been taken into consideration and more ideas will be used in future chapters._

_If you have anything you would like to appear in the Maze, leave a review, message me on ff or tumblr and you might find a chapter with your idea in it!_

_As always, your support never ceases to surprises me and warm my heart :)_


	7. Don't Make Me Say It

**Maze**

**Chapter Seven: Don't Make Me Say It**

_**A/N:** This fic is slowly becoming a monster... My plan is growing and growing. But for now- I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you enjoy this next installment!_

* * *

_He turned to her, the space between his eyebrows crinkling. Then his face contorted, the oddly pained expression tightening._

_"Killian?" she asked again, worry ebbing into her voice._

_"Who's Gabriel?"_

The name shot through her. "Gabriel?" she repeated confused. The name tasted familiar on her lips, though she didn't know why. He opened his mouth to say something but his face went blank.

"Killian?" Emma reached out and took his hand. "What's happened?"

When his gaze locked with hers again, his eyes looked as cloudy and confused as she felt . "I'm not sure. I was having a nightmare… maybe. And I woke up and that name was in my mind and I was_ so_ sure he had something to do with you but now…" he trailed off as she started stroking her thumb along his hand absentmindedly.

"I don't know a Gabriel," she assured him. "It must have been a nightmare. God knows this Maze can mess with our heads."

He nodded slowly. "That must be it."

* * *

"What are your fears?" Killian asked half an hour later.

"Silly fears like spiders or really big fears?" she asked.

"Both."

"Well I'm scared of birds, seagulls mostly. It began when I was six. My school went on a trip to a beach for science or whatever. I'd taken out my lunch and a seagull swooped down and attacked." She held out her arm to him where a silver scar trailed across the back of her hand. "And left me with a reminder." A small smile played on the corners of his mouth before he intertwined their fingers so they were walking hand in hand. A rose of colour blushed in her cheeks, she looked away from his imploring gaze.

"I don't think I need you to tell me your big fear," he murmured softly. A weak smile wavered across her face. He knew it better than most after battling with it first hand.

"So what about you?" she queried.

He smirked. "Who says I'm scared of anything?" he asked cockily.

She raised her eyebrows. "Everyone is scared of something. Even the heartless Captain Hook," she drawled sarcastically.

He chuckled, "I used to retch at the sight of blood."

"Well that must have been useful as a pirate," she noted.

He shot her look, unamused. "Thankfully I got over that particular handicap."

"And what about your 'big fear'?" she inquired, their hands swinging gently as they walked.

Killian inhaled deeply, staring off into the distance. "I'm terrified of being alone."

She wondered if she should have been surprised but all she felt was a settling feeling of understanding.

He struggled with his words, "I know it doesn't make sense because I've been voluntarily alone for so long…"

"You isolate yourself so that you're alone by choice, not because you've lost those you love," she finished. "Sometimes it's easier to cut yourself off rather than putting yourself at risk again."

"Our fatal weakness," he agreed, "our walls."

"Oh god, is that going to be our _thing_?" Killian cocked an eyebrow, bemused. "Well my parents have their thing when they'll 'always find each other'. And I'm asking if our thing is…" she searched for the words.

"Being kindred spirits?" he offered.

A smile twitched on her lips, "Yes. And finishing each other's sentences apparently." Killian grinned, wide and beautiful. She felt her heart flutter with the emotion she wasn't sure she was ready to feel.

"What was your favourite story as a child?" he asked.

A small mischievous smile slipped onto her lips. "Well if I tell you that, I have to tell you the story about the boy who tried to take the book from me."

* * *

Killian spluttered with laughter, "_Wait_. Wait just one second." She bit her lip, pulling back the laughter. "So this kid takes your copy of Peter Pan so you replace the filling in his cake with _what?!_"

Her smirk grew wildly. "Super glue. He was _horrified_!" Killian barked a laugh. "I think I _might_ have poisoned him."

"Oh Emma, love," he strained to get his words out, "I did _say_ you'd make a hell of a pirate." He took a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear as his laughter died down. "I'll make sure never to touch your books then."

"It's only Peter Pan I care about," she said mildly, ignoring the pattering of her heart as he drew nearer.

"Why is that?" he queried, his fingers playing with the neckline of her shirt.

She cast her eyes down. "As an orphan in a crappy home you feel invisible and the concept of growing up just means being more alone and having to completely fend for yourself. So Neverland seemed like an appealing alternative. Never growing up, living carefree in paradise and all that."

He placed two fingers under her chin and raised her face to his, allowing him to examine her expression. His deep blue diving into her green sea. His hand moved to cup her face. "For as long as I live and for as long as you'll have me, I'll never let you be alone."

She breathed in, her heart racing and pounding in her ears. His eyes darkened just before he caught her mouth in a kiss. He took her by the waist, pressing her against a wall. His stubble scratched against her cheek as her lips parted to allow his tongue entrance into her mouth. Her fingers were twisted in his hair, drawing him closer. The cold stone behind her offered a welcomed contrast to the fire which was racing along her skin as his hands slipped under her shirt. They were red hot on her waist, drawing circles on her back and playing with her waistband. He left wet kisses down the column of her neck, pausing sometimes to suck and nibble on her skin. Emma let out a small moan somewhere in between her heavy breaths. Her foot slipped by an inch and before she knew it, her foot hand sunk into the stone and an echo of a click tore through their perfect isolation.

Killian drew away from her, his mouth red, hair tousled and his eyes somewhat concerned through the lust that clouded his vision. She barely had time to open her mouth before the wall behind her gave out, stone tentacles wrapped tightly around her. She heard Killian give a yelp as the opposite wall had also sprouted arms which were weaving around him. She struggled but she might as well of not tried, the stone had hardened as if it had never moved at all.

Fire leapt up to their left, warm heat washing across her face. It only took her a moment or two before she realised the flames had formed words. '_Pirate. You must pay for the freedom of you and your partner.'_

Scowling, Killian tried to shift out of the stone grip. "I'm not making deals with anyone," he muttered venomously through his concentration.

"What price?" Emma asked, knowing fully well he was not escaping anytime soon.

'_I am speaking to the pirate.'_

"Then speak to me," Killian growled, admitting defeat, "Not like I'm going anywhere."

'_You must pay the price for freedom.'_

"I believe I got that bit before," he replied dryly. "What _price_?"

'_Emptiness makes the Maze hungry. Your emotions feed it.'_

"I'm not giving you my emotions," he bit, still put out with being overtaken. Emma nearly smiled, he was a such a sore loser.

_'It is simpler than that, pirate. You must tell the Maze who you are in love with. This will emotional proclamation will feed its hunger.' _

Emma felt her heart tighten as nerves suddenly sprung in her stomach, twisting, fluttering and dropping like weights. '_What if it isn't me? Or what if it_ is_ me?' _Both options seemed equally terrifying.

Killian opened his mouth but before sound could come out the fire blazed higher and brighter, furiously forming words. '_I am not fooled by lies._' He went as white as a sheet, his fingers fidgeting nervously.

As the fire quietened and the shadows flickered across his face, she could see the fury burning inside him. "I'm not doing that on your terms," he hissed through his teeth.

_'Everything is on our terms.'_

"Not this," Killian snarled.

_'I'm sorry you feel that way.'_

Suddenly the rock tightened around her, squeezing the air out of her. She gasped violently as it crushed her, its grip on her getting tighter and tighter and-

"FINE!" Killian roared. He swore under his breath before he met Emma's gaze. He studied her, looking hesitant as he admitted, "I love _you_, Emma."

A weight seemed to lift off her chest, from his words or the fact the rock had released her. She didn't care. She felt like she was flying, soaring high over the walls of the Maze and into heaven's soft grasp. The orange glow of the fire faded, the walls crackling as they rearranged themselves. Killian approached her, trying not to look nervously.

"That's not how I wanted to tell you," he apologised heartily. "I wanted to tell you when we were both ready and out of this hell."

She shook her head gently. "You should know I'm not one for theatrics," she insisted. "I've never been a conventional girl and I never wanted a conventional romance either. All that matters is that-" she hesitated, daring herself to be brave enough. "I love you too."

The most brilliant smile washed across his face as he poorly tried to conceal the joy and faint surprise which was blossoming across his face. Moving simultaneously, they collapsed into each other. His mouth whispered against hers, placing upon them the gentlest kiss she'd ever received which sent goosebumps tingling along her body as every nerve in her body went into hyper drive. His fingers ghosted across her face just before he broke the kiss softly.

When her eyes opened, what immediately startled her was his eyes. They looked as if a dark cloud had been lifted from them which matched his adoring gaze with his light smile. She felt her heart flutter again, struck dumb by the immensity of her love for him. Now that she had admitted it, there were no more walls to encase it, letting it run free through her veins as it consumed her.

He brushed another kiss across her lips before he murmured, "Let's get going, my love. We've got an adventure to complete."

It was silly how without thinking she was mimicking his childish grin.

* * *

After so many days trapped inside the Maze, Emma thought she would have gotten used to the moist air and earthy smells, but no. She still shivered when the cool air slithered over her skin, sending sweaty chills down her grubby body. She barely noticed the grime covering Killian but noticed every mark and stain on herself. Not that he seemed to care. '_Must be a pirate thing,_' she thought to herself.

She played with the cuffs of her jacket as they carried on through the Maze and vaguely wondered how long her clothes were going to survive through the wear and tear. Her boots scuffled on the stone – how long before she would be walking barefoot?

Then she found her thoughts straying to Henry. Was he in a similar condition to her? His scarf lost in the forest, his coat tattered and ripped? Was his hair splayed across his face, sticking to the sweat sheen shining on his forehead?

Emma knew better than to think these things. She was fully aware that she couldn't help Henry until she helped herself and got out of this Maze. She felt her chest tighten with anxiety, how long did she have anyway? She had become so used to hunger when she was young that the first few days had been like walking down memory lane. Except now pain stabbed into her sides, sometimes making her unable to stand. What the Maze must have found amusing, was the fact that it seemed to be taking its time with her starvation. As if it wanted to drag out her suffering for as long as possible.

"Killian, what do you think Greg and Tamara are doing with Henry in Neverland?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He pursed his lips, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck – a nervous habit. "I can't tell you that I know, lass. All I can recall from when I was in Neverland was that the Shadow of Pan was looking for a boy. He thought that boy was…" He paused. "He thought it was Baelfire. But, as we noticed, Baelfire didn't exactly stay in Neverland so he must not of been what the Shadow was looking for."

Emma frowned, pieces slowly coming together in her mind. "What if Henry _is_ the boy? What if the Shadow thought Neal was him because Neal is Henry's father?"

Killian tilted his head, going through the details in his head. "That could very well be possible."

"What do they want with this boy?" Her voice wavered.

"I wish I could tell you, Emma. I never asked questions and knowing the Lost Boys, they probably wouldn't have answer them anyway," he muttered the last phrase darkly.

She wrapped her arms around herself, clutching tightly at the fabric of her jacket. "I don't know how long I can go on like this, Killian."

Emma thought he might say something, tell her it was going to be okay even though he didn't know _if_ it would be. She waited for his white lies but they never came. He simply snaked his arms around her, allowing her to bury her face in his chest. His fingers ran through her hair rhythmically, kissing the top of her head softly. Her eyes fell closed as she found his actions comforted her more than anything he could have possible said.

* * *

_Thought I treat you with a little fluff in between the angst!_

_For those asking, "Who is Gabriel?!" Well that's the whole mystery isn't it? :P But what I will tell you is that these "dreams" are the foundations for the major plot line of this story. So watch out for any more hints or pieces of information which will valuable in later chapters. So you will being finding out more about Gabriel eventually you just need a little patience ;)_

_For now, leave a review and let me know what you think! _


	8. Dragging Out the Devil

**Maze**

**Chapter Eight: Dragging Out the Devil**

_**A/N:** I AM SORRY! I forgot to mention that Zerousy gave me the inspiration last chapter for traps going off in the Maze. This chapter however, is purely my own and it did inspire my latest smut one-shot 'Good Form'. Check it out ;)_

_Also, I've changed my penname to psychoswan just so it matches my tumblr._

* * *

When Emma arose the next morning, she could feel the danger in the air, prickling her skin, raising her senses and lighting her eyes. As she went to stand up, her fingers fell onto something cool and metal. A sword. Gleaming eagerly in the pale light. Her fingers curled around the hilt, lifting it as she stood, testing its weight in her grip. A small smile flickered on her lips, of course it was a perfect fit.

Killian leaned against a wall, his head tilted and his blue eyes fixed on her. "I believe I have a growing fetish for you and your pirate tendencies."

Her green eyes flew to him. "Just think how I feel with you wrapped up in leather all the time," she said offhandedly, letting her gaze burn into his. A smirk lazily washed across his face as he made his way towards her.

"I'd love to see you take it off me," he murmured, his mouth a breath away from hers. Goosebumps exploded across her skin as his fingers twirled into her hair, pulling her towards him. He kissed her, slowly. It burned like the kiss of an angel, searing himself across her heart permanatly. "But let's leave that for another day, love," he said lowly as he broke the kiss. Her eyes narrowed, every nerve was alert and her heart raced in her chest.

Her fingers played with the lace of his trousers. "No one likes a tease, Killian," she hummed, taking pleasure in the lust that filled his eyes. She was about to pull him into another kiss when he interrupted-

"If you've forgotten, lass. You have a sword in your hand, which means we have a busy day to be getting to." Though his face was a mask, Emma heard a slight fluttering unevenness in his voice.

"Then another day it will be," she promised, pulling away from him, enjoying the feel of his eyes watching her. "Did you get any weapon?" she asked.

He indicated towards the sword at his feet. "Same as you." He bent down a picked it up. "And a particularly exquisite one at that."

She paused, turning an idea over in her head. "Killian?"

He was still running the tips of fingers along the markings, "Mhmm?"

"Can you teach me a few things about fighting with a sword?"

He nodded, "That – my love – is an excellent idea." He tucked his sword into his – conveniently acquired – scabbard and moved to her. His focus drew onto her sword, explaining the basic parts of the sword, pointing out their uses in battle and their weaknesses.

"Now defensive stances," he began.

* * *

Thirty minutes later voices washed through their loneliness, breaking their concentration and firing adrenalin and fear through their bodies. The voices drew nearer and nearer, sounding familiar, uncomfortably familiar. Emma and Killian raised their swords, muscles taunt as they waited.

When the voices became people as they turned a corner and into sight, Emma laughed dryly. "I will have no problem slashing through her." She watched as seventeen-year-old Emma and – what she could only assume was – a similarly aged Killian came to a calculated stop.

"Self-hate is a dangerous thing," Killian said lightly from beside her, yet he was giving himself the same look that was awash on her own face.

Emma pursed her lips. "I believe that is the point the Maze is trying to make."

Her shadow-self moved towards her tentatively. "Lord Harthorn said we would help heal you and help you learn to love yourselves."

Killian tilted his head. "Well you can tell the bastard that that's not happening. I've hated myself for three hundred years, that's not changing anytime soon."

"Three hundred years?" spluttered the younger pirate. Emma couldn't help the small smile that twitched on her lips. Killian was still Killian, regardless of how bright his eyes shined or how youthful his face was.

"Long story," Killian drawled coolly.

"So what do we have to do?" Emma cut in as the younger boy opened his mouth. "We were given swords so I assume we fight ourselves?"

The brighter eyed Killian shook his head. "Something will come after us – the younger selves. You are given a choice, watch yourself die or step in between and fight."

"But you're not real," Killian snapped, "Your death means nothing."

"Well then you'll have no problem it," the other Emma quipped before turning to her older self. "Let's begin."

With her words smog rushed from above, hiding the Killians from her. She traced her finger along the wall of smoke, finding it impossible to fight through. "Emma!" she heard Killian faintly call, but it was so muffled she wasn't sure if she imagined it or not.

"Are you really willing to let me die?" her shadow called, narrowing her eyes at her.

"Not like our lives are worth anything anyway." _God, that sounded depressing._

A stubborn look crossed the other's face before she murmured, "Are you so sure Killian feels the same way? And Henry, our parents, Graham-"

"_Graham died because of me_!" Emma screeched, "And no idiotic make believe therapy session is going to change the fact that every person has _left_ _me_. Now I'm scared to trust, love and even let people see who I really am. Who could love someone who will run from every bit of light in her life just to make sure she doesn't get burnt?"

"Killian loves us."

Her insides twisted, "You know that's different."

"How? He's not family, he doesn't _have_ to love us but yet he does. He is utterly devoted and you know in your heart that he isn't leaving."

"Killian is different," Emma insisted. "He's just as screwed up as me. Maybe even more. But my shattered edges fit with his so we become whole together. It doesn't change the fact that I'm broken."

"But he's our True Love and-"

"He's not _your_ anything," she spat, "_You_ are about to go fuck yourself over and give yourself utterly to a man who is going to leave you in the cold for ten years. Only to come back into your life when _you _unsuspectingly seek him out. _You_ are going to stay in Tallahassee for two _fucking_ years on your sorry ass waiting for a man you know isn't coming back whilst he's off getting engaged. And you want to know why that is? Because we're useless. We're not a savior. We're just a teen mom who fucked up and nearly got their kid killed but fortunately for us, some mad man wanted it to work out, so it did. Not because we're special or because we're magical or any of that bullshit." Emma felt the tears choke at her throat. "And then we go and fall in love with a vengeful pirate with a hook for a hand. The polar opposite of what my parents want their daughter to end up with.

"And that's the thing. We're never going to be the daughter they want. We're not going to be this perfect princess, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. We're just a lying, thieving, fucked up bounty hunter." She swallowed hard, wet tears staining her face. "We don't deserve Killian's love or anyone's love for that matter."

"So would you kill yourself?"

The question panged through her, slamming heavily in her gut. Emma shook her head vehemently. "_Never_," she swore.

Her younger self raised her eyebrows. "Why? If you think we're so useless…"

"Regardless of how I see myself, others don't see that. Henry and Killian… They need me. I could never leave them and I would never willingly miss an opportunity to indulge in my selfishness by having them for myself."

"If they see your light then why can't you?"

"Because there is no light," Emma snarled. A pregnant silence spread between them. "How about we skip right to the part when you are gruesomely murdered."

"You'll save me," the girl said confidently, her rouged lips smirking widely.

"Your confidence is going to get you killed. Quite literally, actually."

Her arms folded over her chest. "This better make you realise you don't hate yourself as much as you think you do."

"I personally don't understand how you think I could misinterpret my own feelings for myself," Emma muttered, but it was cut off by a sudden blood curdling scream she was so sure should have been coming out of her own throat.

A man with a long, blood slicked sword had grabbed the younger girl, slamming her against his chest, the blade held tightly against her throat. Emma swallowed, her sweaty hands tightening on her sword. "Are you going to fight me, darling?"

Emma wanted to squeeze her eyes shut and chant in her head '_It's not real. It's not real. It's not real._' But the scream was singed into her mind causing bile to climb her throat and forbidding her from turning her mind away from anything but this.

"Emma," the girl choked, her voice hoarse. "I know you know we're worth it." She gasped as the blade dug deeper into her throat, a bead of blood dropping down. Emma felt the rage pool in her stomach, burning through her heart and up into her eyes.

"Step away from her," Emma ordered fiercely, pointing her sword at the man. "Or prepare to have your balls cut off."

The man leered at her, "Why? Is she suddenly worth it?"

"I won't say it again," she warned, but he made no move. She shrugged. "Your choice."

Emma surged forward, the end of her sword slamming into his head, causing him to yowl in pain, his arms loosening enough for her younger self to squirm out of his grip and hurry away. Emma held the tip of her sword to his neck, making sure it dug painfully into his skin.

"Now I suggest you get the hell away from me before I make good on my previous threat," she hissed. She watched him, relishing his petrified look as he backed away from her and then, when he was far enough away, he turned and sprinted out of sight.

The seventeen year old inched forward, her dress now looked more grey than white, the fabric had ripped near the her shoulder and her glasses had cracked slightly at the bottom. Emma let her sword hand fall to her side, the weapon heavy in her aching arm. "You okay?" She didn't know why she asked, this Emma wasn't real. The girl nodded.

"You're a lot tougher than me," she admitted.

She shrugged, "I've been through a lot."

"They admire that about you, your strength that is."

Emma felt tiredness drag at her. "Who are they?"

"Henry, Killian, our parents, everyone. You don't see it because you _had_ to get strong but they see it because they realise you survived which most couldn't. You think you just did what you had to but living that way for so long was spectacularly strong."

A pause.

"So why did you decide to save me in the end?"

"We have people to live for and I couldn't risk losing that, even if you aren't real," Emma admitted.

"They love you for a reason," the shadow-self insisted, her final words to older self, "The light they see in you is real, you just can't see it past your walls."

Out of nowhere, a heavy weight lifted off her chest and her foundations fell from beneath her, letting her crumble. She was barely aware of the girl disappearing, the weapon clattering from her hand and the smoke fading until suddenly Killian's warm arms were around her and she was clinging to him. Sobs wrecked her body, releasing the agony of so many hate filled years, she hardly even realised he was crying as well, his face buried in the crook of her shoulder.

And though she felt suffocated by her sorrow she finally felt alive. Like a dark veil had been lifted from her eyes and soul and she was finally breathing in the sweet oxygen of the air, feeling it coarse through her blood like burning hot holy water. Killian's fingers were knotted in her hair, slightly painfully but she didn't care. She drowned in the electricity, every touch of his was another breath stolen, the salty tears that dropped from his eyes and onto her cheeks were like the tears of an angel, soaking into her dark soul, dragging out the Devil inside her, flooding her senses with the renewed bitter taste of being born into a existence of untamed darkness. She felt like her heart was on fire.

If she thought she loved Killian before, she hadn't known what love was. Before only slivers of her true complete_ adoration_ slipped through her walls and into her bloodstream but now it crashed through her recklessly and she was overcome by emotion so strong it was as if she had been dreaming all along and she was now finally awake. She twisted her arms around his neck, infatuated with the feeling of being in his arms and _finally _being able to enjoy it without guilt.

He shuddered and she knew he was suffering through the same euphoria but somewhere in between the storm, their lips found each other. Hungrily devouring each other, breathing in the taste of each other desperately. She climbed into his lap, his hand pressing into the small of her back, trapping her against him but she never felt more at home.

"I love you," she breathed against his lips. Those three words never sounded as powerful and as true as they did in that moment as if she had never said them before in the entirety of her life. He whispered the words back to her.

But then she felt the exhaustion of it hit her, draining her and making her limbs grow heavy. She broke away from him and saw the same tiredness in the shimmering blue ocean staring back at her.

They rearranged themselves so they were lying on the ground, curled up against each other. The floor was as uncomfortable and cold as ever and the odd wet air still clung to her skin like cling-film but she never had never had an easier sleep than she did with his arms around her.

* * *

_Pretty sure this is my favourite chapter so far, hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!_

_Leave a review, let me know what you thought :3_


	9. The Siren Song

**Maze**

**Chapter Nine: The Siren Song**

_**A/N:** As always, a enormous thank you to your support and lovely reviews, they brighten up my day and make writing an even greater pleasure :)_

_**Song:** Tomorrow by Daughter_

* * *

_By tomorrow we'll be swimming with the fishes_

_We'll be nothing but dust. Just the outline of our hands._

* * *

When Emma awoke the next morning she felt like a new person. Obviously, she was not healed – nowhere near, actually – but for the first time she could see the possibility of forgiving her past and _finally_ being able to move on. The puzzle pieces were all in place, she only needed time for them to click into place. _If she had time, that is._

That's what puzzled her. This Harthorn person wanted to 'heal' them and he hadn't been fucking around about it either. But if he was so insistent on helping them, why on earth, as master of this labyrinth, was he allowing her to _starve_? Was it some cruel experiment? Was he one of those '_psychologists_'? Emma ached with frustration, if only she knew something about him. Perhaps it would help them figure a way out of the Maze (a faster one that searching endlessly, following a 'distant' bird). Or perhaps there was no escape at all...? Emma hastily pushed this idea from her mind, she refused to give up the one thing she had left; hope.

Emma roused Killian from his sleep, slightly regretfully as she saw the innocence slip from his face. Her name was mumbled on his lips drowsily as she ushered him to his feet. They checked themselves over, making sure there were no new items on them but they found no differences. Only a sword between the two of them (Emma had lost her sword when she'd dropped it before).

And thus began another day.

* * *

She heard the singing before she saw it. Her heart thudded unevenly as she turned to Killian. His eyes had gone glassy, his mouth slightly open as he walked, as if in a trance, towards the source of the singing. "Killian?"

He might as well have not of heard her.

"Killian," she called again, this time more insistent. "What are you doing?" He had not pulled out his sword, he was not being cautious and did not have the familiar determination plastered across his face. Instead his hands were limp at his side as he drifted away from her, his expression one of desperate longing.

And suddenly she realised. _It was a siren._

"No!" Emma cried, throwing herself towards him, looping her arms around his waist. He shoved her off robotically as if she were a fly buzzing in his ears.

Then the siren came into view; long tumbling hair, silvery smooth skin, rounded nails that glittered dangerously in the light, a long cloud-like dress and a cool pride-filled gaze to tie it all up.

Emma's eyes narrowed as it drew nearer to them, it's long fingers hung in the air, calling Killian towards her. "I don't think so, bitch," Emma seethed, pulling the sword from Killian's belt and throwing herself in between him and the siren.

The siren titled it's head, a frosty smile ripping across her face. She raised her hand, flicked it and without warning Emma was thrown against the far wall, crashing head first. Nausea washed through her and blood oozed from a gash on the side of her face. She tried to stand but her vision blackened as she fell in and out of consciousness. But she refused to give up, hissing Killian's name, still trying to drag herself to her feet.

"No!" she heard him yell. He was pulling away from the siren, as the horrible realisation carved disgust into his features. "I don't want you. I'm in love with Emma."

"Have it your way then."

She saw the siren lunge before he did, its nail elongating and growing razor sharp. Energy she didn't know she had flooded through her as she hurled in his direction. But the siren reached him first, her fingers plunging into Killian's stomach. He gasped, his hand and hook flying to cover the wounded area.

"KILLIAN!" she screamed as the siren ripped her hand away from him, letting the blood seep out of him as he tumbled to ground. Everything was spinning, her breath was coming short and her knees gave out as agony and terror exploded inside her heart. She barely even noticed the monster turning to her, Emma was too busy clawing her way to Killian.

That was until she was wrenched from the ground by her hair. She caught sight of cool victorious eyes staring down at her before an incredible pain ripped into her. Emma could barely gather enough air to cry out. The siren brought her nails out of Emma at an excruciatingly slow pace. "The work has been done," the siren said.

However Emma barely heard her as a million thought raced through her as she was dropped to the ground. The first, of course, being Killian. She moved towards him, even though she could feel the life falling from her as blood stained her shirt.

"Killian," she gasped, reaching for his hand. Their heads turned towards each other, a single tear dropped down his face.

"I promised I'd get you out of here," he said mournfully.

She wanted to shake her head but she couldn't muster the energy. The pain was almost blinding but she tried to focus on his bright eyes. "I'm glad you'll be the last thing I see," she said – or at least she think she said it. It was hard to tell.

"I love you." His last promise.

"I love you too," she returned with her last whispering breath. She saw the light dim in his eyes. Then, only seconds later, her eyes went glassy and she saw no more. She didn't see the lights of the Maze click off. She didn't feel the warmth seep from her fingertips. She didn't feel her final tears dry on her cheeks (of which only held the tiniest amount of colour but even that was fading). She didn't know any of this. Emma wasn't aware of anything. Emma Swan no longer existed. Only a soon to be rotting corpse remained as a final, but not long lasting, memorial of her short-lived existence.

Life is funny like that. It all means so much to one person but then they're dead and in about fifty years, all that will be left is a name scratched onto a dusty memorial. That girl with the sunlight hair and fiery temper. Emma Swan. She had made no name for herself, her name only brought hope to the select few she had saved.

It was sad. She had saved so many lives but her story would never be told. Who would believe them? They would all eventually be long dead and there will be no one to remember Emma Swan.

She had loved so hard and so passionately for only a short time. As a child she had dreamed of growing up, falling in love, having the family she never had and finally being happy. She was so close to having it. She had found her son, her parents and then her True Love (in a pirate no less) but now she was dead. And all of those dreams were lost. Every memory was lost… The memory of losing her first tooth. Driving her Bug the first time after she got out of prison. When the happiness swelled in her heart as her mother hugged her or when her father kissed her head. The happiness of being loved and of belonging. No one would ever know that in that moment Henry turned up at her doorstep that layered underneath her terror, there was an outstanding joy at the idea that for once in her life someone had actually come looking for her.

All those emotions, all of those smiles and tears now meant nothing. For the person who carried such depth and held such walls and loved hot chocolate with cinnamon… was dead. There, on the ground before a broken lover, who was also an empty vessel.

Emma Swan was only a concept now.

That was until her heart fluttered and started to beat again.

* * *

A room blurred into Emma's vision as an urgent cry drew her from sleep. Bright lights burned her eyes as out of focus people moved around her.

"EMMA!" she heard Killian yell.

She strained to move but her limbs cried in protest and her head thumped painfully. A woman with long brown hair bent over her, checking her pulse and soothing her. "Don't worry Miss Swan, everything is okay. You're safe now."

"She better be," a familiar voice grumbled from her other side. She tried to move her hands but they were strapped to the metal frame of the bed she was lying on.

"Have a little patience, Gabriel," chastised the woman, "She's nearly ready."

Killian yelled her name against and she gasped in air. She wanted to call out to him too. Her throat strained to make noise as she, with very little energy, fought against her bindings.

"Must she be strapped up, Melody?" Gabriel asked tiredly. If Melody (who she could only assume was the brunette woman) replied, Emma had no idea because she had fallen into unconsciousness again.

* * *

She couldn't open her eyes but voices floated across her.

"Lord Harthorn insists the two candidates are ready and in their homes by morning."

A woman – Melody, Emma recognised her voice – sighed and said, "Mr Jones is ready for placement but Miss Swan is fighting against the program and might not be ready for that time."

"What should I tell him?"

"Nothing, I'll talk to him. If you could watch over Miss Swan for a moment?"

"Of course."

"Thank you, Mr Sutherland."

* * *

When she awoke again, someone was running their fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face. "How are the memory alterations going?" Gabriel asked someone who gave an answer Emma could not hear over the buzz of electronic equipment. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Gabriel?" she mumbled, seeking his comfort. But with her words came a white hot pain which stole the air from her lungs. Memories clashing angrily in her mind as she shrieked in agony.

_ "I don't know a Gabriel," she insisted._

**_"So you'll marry me then?" Gabriel asked, slightly breathless as he emerged from the kiss_**

_"All that matters is that-" she hesitated, daring herself to be brave enough. "I love you too."_

"Sutherland!" Gabriel hollered, his voice panicked but still held the familiar authority she was so used to.

_Wait what? But she didn't know him, how could she-_

His hands cupped her face, urgently. "Emma," he soothed, "Please focus on what I'm saying. I am your reality. _This_ is real. Cling to me not _him_." He spat the last word with particular disgust.

"No!" she screeched, trying to move away from him. "Where's Killian? Where is he? What have you done to him?!"

"Nothing," he insisted, "We have returned him to his home. He is safe but he is no concern of yours. _You don't know him_."

"Of course I do! I-I…" _love him._

_"_We increased the rate of alteration," a man said, cropping up behind Gabriel. "She will soon calm down."

"Thank you Mr Sutherland," he said, seemingly calmer. "It won't be long now then."

Emma tried to call out for Killian but his name felt foreign and harsh on her lips. Tears pricked at her vision as her eyes scanned around the bright room, searching frantically for him (she couldn't believe he was gone, stolen from her). She was about to lift her head to see better until confusion washed through her.

She couldn't remember who she was looking for.

* * *

_Don't bring tomorrow 'cause I already know,_

_I'll lose you._

* * *

**_END OF PART I_**

* * *

_If you're confused, don't worry. All will be explained with time._

_Though I already had this planned, XoxPheonix10 also suggested sirens!_

_**Leave a review!**__ This story is only 25 away from 100 reviews (which is stupidly amazing btw)_


	10. Cathatores

**Maze **|** Part II**

**Chapter One: Cathatores****  
**

**_A/N: _**_Hehe, I see you all enjoyed the little twist in the story! But don't worry, true love always finds a way back to each other. However, on a sad note, this is the last time I can post before school begins again which means there will be greater gaps between chapters._

_Side Note: As I have been asked, this new world's time frame isn't exactly designated as it is a different world but it has a late 1800s, early 1900s feel to it._

* * *

_All changed, changed utterly:_

_A terrible beauty is born._

William Butler Yeats, "Easter, 1916"

* * *

_"They are ready to be placed into their new lives. We have edited the population's memory, they will never know that Mr Jones and Miss Swan never lived here until today. It will be effortless."_

_"Perfect."_

* * *

The bright sun dipped over the snow kissed mountains and spread down its slope into the valley where the sleeping city of Cathatores lay. A fresh autumn breeze whistled down the narrow streets of the East Side and then out into the open courtyards of the West Side. In a bedroom, over one of the more popular taverns of the East Side, ribbons of sunlight cut through the gap where the curtains almost met and fell upon the sleeping face of Killian Jones. His face scrunched up as the sun pricked at his eyelids, drawing him reluctantly from his sleep. He groaned as he resurfaced, a sharp headache pulsed at his temples.

He hauled himself up and leaned against the wooden headboard of his bed as his mattress creaked underneath him. He blearily pushed his messy hair out of his eyes and relished the moment when the cool breeze swam through his open window and momentarily cooled him.

Someone knocked on the door and he winced. "Yeah?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but he probably just sounded grumpy.

A man's face poked out behind the door, grinning teasingly as he slid into the room. "I come bearing gifts, m'lord," he mocked. Enjoying the unamused look Killian shot him as he begrudgingly accepted the bowl of soup and glass of water his friend had offered him.

"You enjoy his way to much, Samuels," Killian grumbled, taking a hearty spoonful of the steaming soup.

Finn Samuels was the owner of the Wayward Dragon, the tavern in which Killian lived when he was not at sea as one of Cathatores' finest navel captains. And as well as being his landlord, Finn was also his best friend.

Killian's mother had died of influenza but he had been so young all he could remember of her was her shocking blue eyes. Then when he was eleven, his father, who had always had too soft a heart, died of a heart attack. This was when the red-haired Samuels family stepped in and adopted him as their second son. Though Aoife and Eric Samuels could never replace the parents he'd lost, they never needed to. They were parents to him in their own way and he loved them all the same for it.

"Why shouldn't I?" Finn asked, dropping down to sit at the end of his bed. "You do make quite the show and dance of it."

Killian wanted to rip that dopey grin off of Finn's face but despite his best efforts, he was grinning back. "How was I last night?" he inquired before taking a leisurely sip of his water.

Finn shrugged, "The usual, you flirted ridiculously with any woman who breathed within your perimeter." He paused to sigh dramatically. "And yet you remain the old maid you've always been."

Killian was tempted to throw a pillow at him but he was enjoying his soup too much to risk jostling it. "Easy for you to say, you just got married a couple of months ago."

"_Maaybe_ if you just put yourself out there, you might find _the one_," Finn said in a sing-song voice.

He snorted, "You're going soft Samuels. What's that woman done to you?"

His friend rolled his eyes. "Whatever, _Jones_. But as we're speaking of 'getting out there' I need you to meet with a client tonight."

"And here I thought you were being kind because you actually like me. Darn."

Finn ignored him as he continued, "It's nothing special. Just an wealthy man from Dragohdore who might or might not want to invest in the tavern."

Killian shrugged, "Sure, why not. God knows I'm better looking than you."

Once again, his comment was ignored. "Harthorn has a big ball on tonight and since you're one of the Navy Captains, you're invited. The client will be meeting you there at midnight-"

"This sounds awfully like the beginning of a love story."

"Well if you swing that way, Killian, I'd be more than happy to be your best man."

Killian glared at him. "What's the name of the client?"

"Phillip J Gardner," Finn said, "Son of Henry and Elizabeth Gardner."

He raised an eyebrow, "As in _the_ Henry Gardner, owner of Gardner's wine factory?"

The redhead's eyes sparkled, "The very one."

"Nothing special my arse."

"Well if you're lucky he might fall in love with those _ocean blue eyes that shine like the moon when it's full and when the clock strikes twelve you'll-_"

Finn was cut off by a pillow roughly hitting him in the face.

* * *

Killian inspected himself in the full length mirror which stood in the corner of his room as he pinned his badges onto his uniform. As per Cathatores tradition, those higher up in the army and navy, only wore their badges and heavily done up uniforms for traditional occasions so when they were seen in these uniforms, they were especially impressive. They had another uniform, of course, which was more ready to deal with the wear and tear of war that they wore in action, but only those lower down in the force wore those to formal occasions.

Though Killian enjoyed basking in the respect the uniform brought him, it stunk of the West Side and those so rich they could bathe in their money, leaving nothing for those, like himself, who grew up in the East Side. Killian had to work day in and day out to get the position he had but rich men like Harthorn, who only went to war when it suited them, had many glittering badges and often enjoyed pulling out their formal uniforms just to show how _great _and _powerful _they were. Killian hated it, they were cowards not heroes. They didn't deserve the respect they bought.

That's why he usually never went to this god forsaken balls Harthorn threw. He wanted to be known for what he did as Captain Jones not the people he unfortunately had to associate with because of his job. However this was important to Finn, so he'd do it for him.

He ran his fingers through his hair, giving himself a final look over. Once he was satisfied that everything was how it should be, he headed down the stairs and into the main section of the tavern where men and woman had already begun piling but then again it was seven o'clock in the evening.

"Looky here, our Killian's got his party dress on," came the mocking voice of the bartender Charlie.

"I'm seeing a client," Killian snapped irritably, "But could you spare me one drink? I doubt they have rum up in the Palace."

With a grunt Charlie poured him some rum and pushed it towards him. Killian quickly drowned it, enjoying the burning sensation that trailed down his mouth. "Mhmm, those rich idiots don't know what their missing," Killian said, giving the bartender a quick nod before making his way out of the tavern.

"And where are you going then?" came an all too familiar voice. He turned and saw Finn's wife leaning against the back wall.

"Business meeting," he explained, "Boring stuff."

"Is that why you've got your party suit on?" she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips.

He nodded, "Sadly I'm forced again to interact with the self-consumed idiots Harthorn calls friends."

She laughed, "Well you're in a sunny mood, aren't you?"

"Always am my dearest Mel," he said with a wink, "And though I wish I could stay I should go before I become more than fashionably late."

"Behave yourself!" she called after him as he pushed the door open.

He grinned, "What's the fun in that?" And then he was gone, walking down the cobbled streets in the cool autumn night towards the illuminated mansion (which the citizens had dubbed as the Palace).

"This is going to be a long night," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Once Killian was in the heavily marbled Palace he quickly made his way to the bar, avoiding as much small talk as he possibly could. He scanned the room as he sipped his unforgivably expensive champagne to see if there was anyone he could bear having a conversation. With a sigh, he realised there wasn't. It seemed his crew also had little patience for the rich and their parties.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in."

Killian turned and came face to face with Vice Admiral Sutherland. "Well I've got to get out sometime haven't I?" Killian asked.

"Yes," Sutherland agreed with a chuckle, "It's almost like I've never seen you before." Killian blinked, clearly missing some sort of joke.

"Do you want some champagne, Vice Admiral?" he offered.

A pause, then- "No, no, Captain. I appreciate the offer but I must get going, I saw Admiral Stephenson and her husband briefly when I came in and I really must catch up."

"Of course," Killian said, who had no interest in sucking up to his superiors.

Sutherland turned to go but just before he let himself get lost in the crowd he turned back to Killian and asked, "Do you know what this party is about, Captain?"

He shook his head, "Can't I say I do."

A smug look came across Sutherland's face momentarily, "Lord Harthorn's getting married to a very beautiful young lady. She'll be making her first public appearance in only a matter of minutes."

"I'll have to offer my congratulations," Killian replied simply, wondering why on earth Sutherland was looking so pleased with himself.

"That you will," the Vice Admiral replied quietly before he left, leaving Killian with his thoughts and –of course– his drink.

Then after a few peaceful minutes, a hush washed over the crowd as every head moved towards the top of the staircase where the elderly Ivan and Isabel Harthorn stood, smiling graciously down at the guests. "As some of you might now, we are holding this ball tonight to celebrate a most magnificent event. My son, Gabriel, is going to be married in the autumn of next year to a truly astounding young woman. And tonight we are going to present to you this woman who has a name as beautiful as she, Miss Emma Swan." He paused, turning to his left. "Emma, dear." He held out his hand and a woman stepped forward.

Killian's bored expression dropped from his face as his gaze fixed itself on her. He felt himself gasp quietly but so did many others so it went unnoticed. She had golden hair, as if it was weaved with sunlight, which fell down her back in bouncy ringlets. Her eyes (though he could not see their colour from this distance) flickered along the crowd nervously but she had a bright smile across her lips. She was wearing a beautiful red dress which only brought the platinum highlights in her hair. But what Killian couldn't understand was the nagging sensation that he knew her. There was a sense of comforting familiarity about her face that felt like coming home.

"You might want to close your mouth, Captain," came a voice beside his ear, smug and victorious. Sutherland.

"Thank you, Vice Admiral," Killian replied tightly, deciding to take a long sip of champagne before he turned back to Miss Swan who was now walking down the stairs, arm tucked neatly in the crook of Gabriel Harthorn's arm. How did a man like that, get a goddess like her? '_She must be dull and stupid then_,' a voice snipped in his mind but he couldn't quite believe it as if he knew she was better than that.

* * *

Two hours later and the hand had only fallen across half nine but he seemed to be the only one looking at the large brass clock that hung at the end of the hall. He glanced away and back at the guests when he caught sight of golden hair. He got up from his seat and started to make his way towards her, having no idea why he so desperately wanted to see her.

He slipped through the crowd towards the happy couple who were grinning and chatting with each other and a curious sense of jealousy burned at his heart. She saw him first, her bright eyes (which were a dazzling green) focused on him and he watched as she experienced the same odd sensation he had (it seemed he could read her like an open book). Then Harthorn saw him, his eyes at first narrowed but then a smug expression clouded the distaste as if he knew something Killian did not.

"Lord Harthorn," he said politely, dipping into a short bow. "Excellent ball, you must thank your father for me." Sarcasm had slipped dainty into his words but Harthorn seemed unfazed. It was when he turned to Miss Swan that he realised he had been caught as her lips were pursed with irritation. He found himself grinning as he took her gloved hand and kissed it. "And an honour to meet you, Miss Swan."

"This is Captain Jones," Harthorn explained to his fiancée who was still giving him a calculated expression. "It's rare to see him at parties, he more prefers the isolation of the East Side."

"We must never forget our roots," Killian said lightly, ignoring the bait Harthorn was handing him.

"Well we must get going," Harthorn said offhandedly, more to Miss Swan than Killian. "Lots of people to see."

Killian nodded, stepping back to allow them to pass by him. He watched her until she fell out of sight, something tightening in his chest as if she had taken a piece of him with him. He couldn't understand it, he didn't even know her and yet…He sighed and glanced up at the clock again. Only ten minutes had passed.

* * *

_Jeez, that chapter just wrote itself._

_The name Cathatores comes from the Irish word for city 'cathair' and the Latin word for saviours 'salvatores'. Thus it is the 'city of saviours'. Read into that as you will. _

_Please leave a review and let me know what you think!_


	11. First Impressions

**Maze **|** Part II**

**Chapter Two: First Impressions**

_**A/N:** Eeep, I love my beans! I'll never get tired of thanking you guys *mwah*_

_I mentioned this in previous chapter but just to reiterate: The world in which Cathatores is in does not have an exact time frame as it is a different world but it has a late 1800s, early 1900s feel to it._

_And if it wasn't clear, Gabriel is Lord Harthorn, the supposed creator/owner of the Maze._

* * *

When Killian had only one hour to go until he was meeting with Philip Gardner, he decided to talk a walk in the labyrinth like gardens of the Harthorn household. He sat himself down on a white wooden swing-seat that had vines and flowers crawling up the sides of it. It was quite picturesque Killian had to admit but nothing was as beautiful to him as the ocean.

"Captain Jones, am I right?"

He turned his head to the left, where Miss Swan was standing, a cool expression painted across her angled features, the moonlight left dark shadows across her skin that only illuminated how she seemed to glow from the inside. "The one and only," he answered. "Would you care to sit with me, Miss Swan?"

"Not particularly but these shoes hurt, so I'm going to have to accept."

A dry smile fell upon his lips, "I get the feeling the you don't like me much, lass."

She placed herself beside him. "That feeling would be correct."

"Would it be perhaps because of the way I spoke to your love?" Killian didn't know why he put so much scorn into the last word.

"That, and your apparent disregard for every person you've laid eyes on tonight," she replied haughtily.

He wanted to look away from her scornful expression but found looking at anything but her was a waste of his time. "Oh Miss Swan, you have no idea how ridiculous people from the West Side look to people who have actually had work for their success," he said coolly.

Her cheeks flushed as her expression turned incredulous. "I wouldn't be so quick to judge someone you hardly know," she snapped.

"Weren't you only moments ago judging me because my respect for the rich cannot be bought with fancy uniforms and expensive drinks?" he returned.

"I guess I'm lucky I have no desire to earn your respect," she snipped.

He smirked. "That doesn't mean much to me as no one at this ball wants to _earn _my respect. They expect they have it automatically just because they have ridiculous wealth."

The blonde faltered for a moment before she shot out of her seat. "I think it would wise if I found a seat elsewhere."

"But lass, you only just sat down," he called after her tauntingly. She shot him a scathing look before she disappeared behind a hedge. Killian found a smile twitching at his lips. Oh yes, he liked Emma Swan and very much so.

* * *

Finally the clock struck midnight with a clanging that vibrating over the swelling music but the guests seemed not to notice as their gowns kept swishing past and their polished shoes still quietly clicked and snapped along the marble floor. Killian was leaning against the bar, toying with his empty glass and occasionally allowing his eyes to fix upon Miss Swan. She had avoided dancing as far as Killian could see, only once or twice begrudgingly led onto the dance floor by her soon to be father-in-law and other elderly members of the family. He supposed the attention she received came with marrying a shallow pig such as- "Mr Samuels' associate, I take it?"

Killian turned and was met with the sight of- who he could only assume was –Phillip Gardner who was smiling at him rather hesitantly. Mr Gardner (who could have only been twenty-five) had a warm face, with light golden brown eyes, freckles and a dark settling tan underneath his carefully sculpted of brown hair. He wore a tight fitting suit and a large silver ring with the Gardner emblem.

"That would be correct," Killian answered, throwing out his hand towards the man. "Captain Killian Jones of the Cathatores Navy."

The smile settled on Mr Gardner's face. "Phillip Gardner," he replied, "But I assume you knew that."

"Well Mr Gardner-"

"Oh gods, please call me Phillip. Mr Gardner is my father," Phillip interrupted hastily.

With a smile Killian continued, "Mr Samuels mentioned that you were interested in investing in the Wayward Dragon but I can't say he explained much else about our meeting tonight."

"That's quite alright, I didn't tell Mr Samuels much anyway," the young man answered. "See I'm just interested in getting a real grounding here in Cathatores. I know we have a factory near Lake Saoirse but I want to get to know the city better. So I packed a few bags and bought myself a house up here on the West Side."

"If you want to get to know the city, the West Side is not the place to be staying," Killian said, trying to sound as indifferent as possible but he saw Phillip smirk softly, trying to fight off a laugh.

"I realised that very quickly, Captain. Thus I spent a day in the East Side, getting to know people, travelling in different establishments. That's when I came across the Wayward Dragon, you see. The atmosphere was warm and excited, everyone seemed to know everyone and I was treated as if I had been going for years. _That's_ when I knew I had to get involved with your tavern. I had found the best of Cathatores and I could not deny myself the opportunity to be a part it."

Killian studied him carefully, it was clear that Phillip was different from the rest, he was not one of those who sat, content with their money. He was a man who took every opportunity he could and this was just another chance to indulge himself in life. "When you say 'get involved'," Killian began, "How involved do you mean?"

Phillip's words came out effortlessly as if he had rehearsed it a thousand times. "As much or as little as you want. I just want the pride in knowing I helped such a fine establishment."

"So you'll fund us?" Killian asked.

The brunette nodded, "Of course, you'll even get complimentary wine from our factory." He paused. "I would like a more active role in business, though. I'm not one for signing a cheque and having done with it."

"How active?"

Phillip drew circles with his fingers on the cool surface of the bar. "I would visit, have a drink perhaps. Become an adviser of sorts?" he suggested.

Killian weighed the offer carefully, once again going over what little he knew of Phillip's character. But he trusted the young man, he had a good feeling about him and was utterly confident in himself when he said, "You've got yourself a deal."

* * *

It was somewhere in the hour of one o'clock when he bumped into Miss Swan again. Killian was on his way out after having an extensive conversation with Phillip about the his future with the tavern which eventually grew deeper as they spoke of the past and of his life in Dragohdore. Nothing special but Killian had the feeling Phillip had left out a few details.

The exit of the hell hole was in site, he could almost smell the familiar musty smell of his room and hear the creak of his bed when-

"Leaving already?" Miss Swan inquired, appearing out of the crowd, her hair slightly mussed up but her eyes were bright with the lights that illuminated the house. "Gabriel was right, you _are_ a recluse."

Killian raised an eyebrow, turning towards the blonde. "Must I again reiterate my distaste for your friends? Or can we skip that part of the conversation?"

Miss Swan bent him a withering look. "I don't think I need reminding."

"Then I'll be going," he said curtly, his eyes lingering on her face longer than he should before he continued to head to the large French doors.

"To return to your cave until the sea calls you again?" she mocked.

He moved to face her once again. "Perhaps I have other _desirable_ things calling me," he returned, his eyes burning through hers. She caught the innuendo quickly, raising her eyebrows as her eyes flared angrily. He was pleasantly surprised at the jealously he caught in her green orbs.

"God forbid I detain Captain Jones from his many whores," she quipped haughtily, seemingly not to care at the use of vulgar language.

He chuckled, the sound low and quiet. "Jealousy does not suit you, love. If you want me in your bed, you can simply ask."

Her eyes narrowed, "When hell freezes over."

"Well you better get your best winter coat ready, darling," Killian suggested, his eyebrows waggling.

"Are you always like this or are you naturally a sleazy bastard?" she asked.

The laugh burst out of him, "My, my, you swear like a sailor, Miss Swan."

She pursed her lips, "I don't pretend to be someone I'm not and I certainly don't refrain from swearing just because society says that as a lady I should."

Admiration swelled at his chest. "Then you are far wiser than anyone I've seen tonight."

Miss Swan faltered for a moment, caught off guard by his sincerity. "Well I already knew that," she finally said, a cheeky but wary grin slipping onto her lips.

"Excluding me, of course," he corrected, watching as the grin disappeared, replaced with a '_really_?' look he was sure he knew so well. He shrugged, "What can I say? I speak the truth."

"You believe it to be true, it doesn't necessarily mean it is," she said, deadpanned.

"Oh you wound me," he mocked, clutching his chest dramatically. She simply rolled her eyes.

"Why did you come tonight if you hate everyone here?" Miss Swan asked, trying to sound like she didn't care.

Killian was vaguely aware they were both being sucked back into the crowd as he explained, "I was meeting a client."

"You go to parties to make business deals?" she asked, looking mildly amused.

He nodded, "Aye, not my choice of setting, _obviously_-" She gave an irritated sigh. "-but the client wanted to meet here. Said he preferred the ambiance or something along those lines. Sounds like bull to me but money is money and he has lots of it."

"So who's your client?" she asked, giving in to her curiosity.

"That's for me to know," he said with a wink.

"You really shouldn't wink at an engaged woman," she snapped.

He raised an eyebrow, "And you, an engaged woman, shouldn't be looking at me the way you are right now."

She recoiled from him, her mouth dropping open as a furious expression slashed across her face. "I think you should get your ego checked before you assume things like that," she hissed.

"But it's true, is it not?" he asked, smirking.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed but upon realising she had gained the attention of passers-by, she lowered her voice. "The very idea of being near such a self-righteous and arrogant man as yourself disgusts me. You talk harshly of the men and woman here at this party, forgetting that you are the most self-obsessed one of them all."

His smirk turned cold. "What must you think of yourself then?" Her cheeks flushed and her mouth fell open to say something- "Goodnight, Miss Swan," he interrupted, sparing her one last look before he left the Palace, heart pounding heavily in his ears.

* * *

All Killian wanted to do was collapse onto his bed and allow himself to dive into his warm sheets and fluffy pillow but as impatient as ever, Finn wanted information.

"So what was Mr Gardner like?" he queried.

Killian leaned his chin on his hand as he slouched over the table they were sat at. "Nice lad, young, insists on being called Phillip and has a_ 'passion for life_.'"

A smile twitched on Finn's lips. "A passion for life?"

He nodded, "He's not like the rich we have here in Cathatores. He's not content with just spending it, he wants to enjoy it."

"And what does he want with the tavern?"

Killian explained Philip's proposition as Finn placed himself onto the seat next to him. "And you agreed?" the ginger asked, confused. "But you're the one who's reluctant to get outside help."

He shrugged, "I know but there was something about him that was right. For once he didn't see our tavern as somewhere to make money but as the tightly knitted family it is."

"You said he was leaving out a few details about his past, aren't you worried about that?" Finn asked.

Killian shook his head, "Whatever he was leaving out isn't for us to worry about. If he wants to, he'll tell us with time but for now, I trust him."

Finn leaned against the back of the booth, his fingers tapping lightly on the wooden table as he went through it all in his head. "Okay," he agreed finally, "I'll put my faith in you for this one."

"He'll be coming over tomorrow evening," Killian said, "You can make any final judgements then." Looking more satisfied, Finn nodded, allowing Killian to finally retreat upstairs and fall asleep. Except his mind was wide awake because every time his eyes fell shut Miss Swan's face appeared in front of his eyelids, a wonderful laugh blossoming on her lips. Her green eyes haunted him as he tossed and turned, a strong desire to hold her in his arms making him unsatisfied and cold.

Never in his life had a woman had such an effect on him, he simply could not understand it. He had only seen her for the first time a matter of hours ago but his soul seemed to recognise hers as if they knew each other intimately in a past life. He felt a burning in his chest as he thought about what she might be doing and with _whom_. As he hugged his pillow closer to him he had only one thought in his mind, '_This woman will be my undoing_.'

And that was only the beginning.

* * *

_Omg, 94 reviews, 38 favourites and 109 follows!_

_If you all leave a review we could make it 203 reviews ;) so let me know what you thought!_


	12. History Repeating Itself

**Maze: Part II**

**Chapter Three: History Repeating Itself**

_**A/N:** Woop whoop 100+ reviews! Thank you so much, it means the world. But if you follow me on tumblr you will know that I am having a lot of trouble even getting near my laptop due to schoolwork, let alone actually get on tumblr or write a chapter. So I apologise if updating becomes less frequent but I am trying to keep to an update per week._

* * *

_Neverland: One month ago_

The Neverland sea lay flat, blue and peaceful as it usually did, the sun was burning brightly onto the water, sending sparkles of sunlight along its surface. A hush had enveloped the island as creatures rose from their sleep slowly, as Lost Boys snored as they slept on a grassy meadow in Neverwood and mermaids' tails splashed the water lightly in Mermaid's Lagoon as they dreamed of swimming. Neverpeak Mountain, sitting in the middle of the mainland, watched over the land, waiting for something to happen.

And then it did.

A green whirlpool opened up not far off shore, crackling with magic and forbidding. A whiteness flashed along the portal just before a large familiar ship rose from the green, bobbing onto the blue sea just as the whirlpool shrunk and vanished. Leaving the Jolly Roger to sit content in the now flat ocean.

On the ship, Snow gasped as warm sea air met her damp skin, her fingers tightly coiled around a thick rope, her wet hair sticking to her face. "David? Emma?" she called, scanning her eyes around the ship.

"Here," her husband replied, making his way towards her.

"Where's Hook?" Regina asked, from the other end of the ship, her eyes fixed pointedly on where Hook and Emma had only stood moments ago.

"Emma!" Snow cried, "Emma?!" Without a moment's pause the King and Queen were rushing to the helm of the ship, where the now vacant wheel was creaking, Hook's wet fingerprints still shining on them. Charming threw himself against the railings of the boat, staring down and searching the dark waters desperately for his daughter.

His wife however turned back to Gold and Regina who was watching the situation with pursed lips. "What did you do?" Snow growled, stalking towards her former enemies.

"_Why_ would I want to hinder the search for my son?" Regina returned, sneering.

Snow threw her hands in the air. "Oh I don't know," she drawled sarcastically, "You want Henry for yourself and Gold wants Hook gone. You get rid of them in some 'accident' with the portal, save Henry by yourselves and relish in the fact you_ finally_ ruined our happiness."

"If that was the case I would've gotten rid of you two idiots as well," Regina snapped.

"And Neverland is not made for small numbers, dearie," Gold leered.

Snow opened her mouth to reply but Charming stepped in. "Mary Margaret, fighting isn't going to get our daughter back."

"Then what is?" she demanded, turning to him.

"I don't know," he admitted, the familiar exhaustion settling in.

She wrapped her arms around herself subconsciously. "We're always losing her, David."

He sighed. "I know."

"What if it's a sign?" she asked softly.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confusion and nervousness washing across him. "For what?"

"That when we gave her up, we were never meant to get her back. We had our chance and we lost-" her voice cracked. She breathed in deeply, "We lost it…"

A silence fell between them.

"No," he said forcefully. "I refuse to believe that. We _will _get our daughter back."

* * *

_Cathatores: Present_

Phillip swept out of the tavern, his long coat swishing behind him, reminding Killian of someone he used to know. Thankfully, al had gone well in the meal between the Samuels, Killian and the young Gardner heir and everything was set up and ready. The negotiations had been made and Finn had taken to Phillip just as Killian had the night before. Phillip was now part of the Wayward Dragon family.

Killian leant against the wooden bar, running his finger along the thin silver scar that was wound around his right hand, wondering when in his life he acquired such a injury. He cast his gaze lazily over the tavern when a hooded figure entered. He perked up when he noticed feminine legs slip from under the cape. The woman approached the bar, apparently oblivious to his staring. She leant over the bar towards Charlie. "Give me bottle of your strongest drink," she demanded.

He recognised that voice.

A sly grin threatened to rise up his mouth. Little Miss Perfect was not as innocent as she pretended to be.

Charlie continued to clean the glass he was holding. "Are you sure you can pay for that, missie?" he asked gruffly.

A smirk fell across Killian's features, if only Charlie knew who he was talking to. "Don't fret, Charlie. I'll pay for the lady."

She spun towards him, her green eyes boring into his; his suspicions confirmed. "And why would you do that?" she snapped.

He grinned lazily, "Because you have my curiosity peaked, darling and unless you want this whole tavern knowing who you are, you'll come have a drink with me." A pause. "May I add we're not too fond of _your_ kind down here."

She clenched her jaw, her fury almost as palpable as the smell of beer in the air. The bartender looked between with light amusement. "I'd take him up on his offer, ma'am. He doesn't often give up."

"Especially not on such _swan _like creatures as yourself," Killian added, relishing the look of indignation that crossed her expression.

But it only lasted a moment, she smoothed out her features and smiled coolly, "Well, who am I to deny a drink from Captain Jones himself?"

Victory came with a rush of euphoria. "Exactly, lass."

When they had settled themselves in a secluded booth in the back, she pulled off her hood – allowing the waterfall of sunlight to fall over her shoulders and down her back – as he poured them a glass of rum each.

"Rum?" she asked, "You've really got this sailor thing down to a peg haven't you?"

He chuckled softly, "I'm a perfectionist at heart."

She held the glass in her hand, watching him with an expression of boredom, but he easily saw through the mask. She was on edge. "How much do you want?" she eventually asked, her tone frosty.

Killian took a leisurely sip. "Don't quite understand your meaning, Miss Swan," he drawled, a smile ghosting across his lips.

She titled her head, a fake smile shining brightly at him, "Well if you're common in these parts of the city, you're a money loving low life and what better way to get money than through blackmailing someone of the Harthorn family."

"Not quite Harthorn yet, lass," he corrected. Smiling wider as her eyes grew colder. "But anyway, you have me all wrong. Yes, I grew up in this area and perhaps it's slipped your attention but I am in fact a highly respected captain of the navy. I certainly to not need money to keep myself satisfied, Miss Swan-"

"Emma," she interrupted, "Call me Emma. I'm not one for formalities."

A warm affection knotted in his chest, a phantom voice murmuring '_Typical Emma' _in the back of his mind. "Well then, _Emma_," he continued, trying to push away his odd emotions. "I'm not going to blackmail you. I was just curious to your business in the Wayward Dragon."

"That's all?" she inquired, looking startled.

He sighed dramatically, "I am truly and honestly offended by your lack of faith in me."

She raised her eyebrows, "To be fair, Jones-"

"Killian." He shot her a wink.

She sent him a withering look. "To be fair, Killian, you haven't given me much to put faith in."

"Well, I thought my heaven sent good looks were reason enough."

Emma rolled her eyes but he could see the smile fighting its way through.

He leaned towards her, "So tell me, love. How does someone of your esteem end up in a dangerous place like this?"

"This tavern is _hardly_ dangerous. And anyway, I can take care of myself just fine," she pointed out. "I'm not unfamiliar to the use of violence to get my way."

He chuckled, "As shocking as that should be, I find that very much unsurprising."

She raised her eyebrows once again but other than that gave no reply. "Now, Emma, stop evading my question," he said, mock-sternly.

There was the almost smile again as she explained, "The West Side can be a bit… tiresome and dull. I like going down to the East because it adds some variety into my life. I was trying out different taverns this evening when I stumbled across your_ charming_ self."

"Maybe you would not find the East so appealing if you did not have the choice to retire to your castle once the night is too dark for you," Killian said mildly before lifting his glass to his lips.

Her green eyes flared, "You're not the only one who grew up here."

He raised an eyebrow, "And the plot thickens."

"Don't patronise me," she spat, "Don't assume you know everything about me because you don't."

A laugh fell out of his mouth but it was empty. "Oh, love, I wouldn't say things like that if I were you. I do _love_ a challenge." He locked his gaze with hers, daring her to say another word.

"What could you possibly know about me?" she hissed.

He smirked, widely and darkly. "That would spoil the fun," he murmured, looking up at her through his lashed. He relished the momentary desire that crossed her face. But then he faltered, somewhere in his mind he had seen this look on her before. He tried to remember when he could have possibly seen her in such a state and found his mind blank.

By the time he returned his attention to her, Emma was once again glaring at him. "I call your bluff," she announced, taking a sip of her drink.

He shrugged, a silent '_I did warn you._' "Well, for one thing," he began, "you were abandoned at birth."

She paled, pulling violently away from the table.

"And the gracious Swans must have adopted you somewhere along the line but you were alone for a long time," he concluded. Her glass shattered. Blood had started to drip through her fingers. Without thinking, he pulled a scarf from his pocket and slipped into the seat next to her.

"Get away from me," she snarled.

"Now, now Emma," he chastised, "You're injured, let me tend to it." He quickly splashed some of his rum onto the gash and, ignoring her hiss of pain, begun to tie the scarf around her hand, making sure to brush his fingers along hers.

"Oh so now you're being a gentleman?" she asked, giving him a doubtful look.

He grinned at her as he finished the knot, taking a moment to run his thumb along her cheek. "I'm always a gentleman." She shivered, her eyelashes fluttering as the most peculiar sense of déjà vu washed through him.

"How did you know?" she asked meekly.

"I recognise the face of an orphan, they all share the same look in their eyes," he answered.

There was a small silence.

"I should go," she conceded, her voice still small.

"Heaven forbid your mother wakes up to find her most precious Emma has disappeared from her bed!"

She narrowed her eyes, "Always a gentlemen, my ass."

"Such vulgar language for a lady," he teased.

A small smile played on her lips. "I'm as much a lady as you are a gentleman," she returned, standing up from the booth. Killian followed her as she headed to the door of the tavern.

Hastily, he took her hand and drew her back towards him. "A moment please, m'lady." She raised her eyebrows. He bent down and lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed it softly. "Will I be seeing you again, Miss Swan?"

Her eyes watched him, dark and sensual. "If I'm in the mood for a vain, flirtatious cad… maybe. But you're not the only one of those crawling around these parts." She withdrew her hand from his, pulling up her hood.

Killian grinned cheekily, drawing upright. "But I'm the only one who looks this good."

She laughed, "Keep dreaming, Captain." And then she was gone and all he had left was the breeze that was coming through the open door.

* * *

_Fun fact, I wrote the scene with the rum and the fighting and the flirting in early August! So that's how long I've been preparing for this part of the story_

_I'm sorry this is such a short chapter but anything I wanted to put in I wished to save for future chapters so you'll just have to bear with it being a couple hundred words shorter than usual._

_Leave a review, let me know what you think of this chapter/any theories you might have so far :)_


	13. Don't Go

**Maze: Part II**

**Chapter Four: Don't Go**

**A/N:**_ Hey, guess what? You're finally getting some answers this chapter!_

* * *

_Neverland: One month ago_

Gold coughed, breaking the couple's moment as he stepped forward. "I believe I know who took your daughter and Hook."

Snow and Charming spun on their heels, the familiar stare in their eyes which Gold nearly giggled at, the King and Queen of the Enchanted Forest were back.

"Well then tell us," Snow demanded.

"When I was searching for a way to find my son again, I came across a certain world which monitors portal activity," he explained, "They pride themselves in catching illegal world jumpers and it seems that they managed to grab Emma and Hook as we were traversing the worlds."

"And what are they going to do them?" Charming asked, the concern fighting through his authorities stance.

* * *

_Cathatores: Present_

The next evening, Killian was working the bar with Charlie when a familiar blonde slipped through the doors of the Wayward Dragon. A small smile drifted upon his lips as pleasant surprise washed over him. That was until her eyes rose to meet his and he slid a cocky grin on his face. "Back again, princess?" he called, earning himself an eye roll.

"It's not my fault this is the only place worth going to," she returned easily.

He smirked, "That all hmm?" When she didn't return his pressing gaze, he chuckled. "What can I get you, lass?"

She pursed her lips, "Have you got any food here?"

"Don't you have enough food to feed all of Cathatores back at the Palace?" he asked, trying to keep the hostility out of his tone.

"Rule number one; no talking about my wealth," she snapped.

"I didn't realise we were making this a regular thing," he noted.

She gave a blasé shrug, "I'm in need of a drinking buddy."

"Just a 'buddy'? I think we could serve each other much better than that…" he trailed off, his toothy grin sliding back into place.

Without missing a beat she replied, "Now, now, Captain, I would've thought by now someone would have given your ego a good bashing."

"That's where you come in, darling. I'm _sure_ you can give me a good bashing," he drawled.

Another eye roll. "That was just weak, Jones."

He pouted, "I thought we were on first name basis, _Swan_."

"I'll use your first name when you behave," she said, "So I doubt I'll ever call you by it."

He laughed, "Very well, I'll call you Swan until you stop calling me Jones."

"Well then I'm glad there will be something reliable about you," she quipped.

He studied her for a moment, pursing his lips as he fought off a grin, this woman really was something. "What do you want to drink?" he finally asked.

Sliding onto a barstool she replied, "Some more of that delicious rum you gave me last night."

"I knew you were a sailor at heart," he said, bringing out a bottle.

Emma pushed a laugh down, "Is that so?"

"Aye, you have the ocean in you even if you don't realise it." He pushed her drink towards her.

She looked up at him with a curious expression that both unnerved and excited him. "How poetic," she murmured before dropping her gaze and taking a swig of rum.

"I know, as if my smouldering looks weren't enough to sweep woman off their feet," he responded, mimicking her soft tone. A broken laugh sounded from her as she spluttered and choked on her rum. "You alright there, lass?" he asked, genuine concern for her flooded him as he leaned towards her.

She nodded before finally swallowing and sending him a sheepish grin, "Next time you make a joke, try to avoid making me choke, alright?"

He chuckled, "Agreed. Though, I must say your smile is truly stunning."

Even in the dim lighting of the tavern he could see the colour that flushed in her cheeks, sending a jolt of desire through him as she looked up at him with wariness and mild disbelief.

"What?" he asked, "Don't you believe me?"

"I find most things you say hard to believe," she conceded.

Killian frowned as he subconsciously moved closer to him. "I've told you no lies, Miss Swan."

"Like I said before, just because you believe it to be true, doesn't mean it is," she said quietly.

"Have you always been this guarded?" he asked, refilling her glass.

She raised an eyebrow, "Trying to get me drunk?"

_'Avoiding the subject, I see'_ he thought to himself but out loud he said, "I'm simply trying to be a good bartender."

She smirked. "Whatever you say, Captain," she drawled sarcastically but before he could respond a large group of people had sauntered up to the bar.

"Give me a moment, I'll be right back," he promised.

* * *

_Neverland: Once month ago_

Gold sighed, knowing fully well that the King and Queen were not going to like what he knew. "From what little I could gather – they're very secretive people, you see – they take the 'criminals' and put them through a quite rigorous process in which they try to heal them."

"_Heal them_?" Snow repeated, "What do you mean by that?"

"It can be meant both mentally and physically," he answered.

"As in Emma's trust issues?" David asked slowly.

Stepping forward, Regina added, "And Hook could get his hand back?"

"This is what I presume," Gold replied.

"And after that?" David asked, looking wary.

A pause as Gold braced himself, preparing himself for the onslaught that would explode after he told them. "Their memories are wiped, replaced with fake ones. Much like our darling curse. Then the population's memories are altered and they are placed within society and everyone thinks they've been there their whole lives."

"Why would they want them in their society? Why not return them?" Snow asked, her cool expression more tamed than he expected.

"Twenty years or so ago there was a war in their world between those who believed they were angels born human and those who did not. It left half of the population dead so now-"

"They have to repopulate," David concluded. Gold nodded.

With firm set eyes and her chin stuck slightly upwards Snow demanded, "How do we get them back?"

"It will be tedious but I will have to venture through my contacts, establish a link to someone in that world. I might have some difficulty as the side who won the war are the ones who think they are mortal angels. Thus they act with ruthless power and have strict control over everything that goes in the world," Gold explained.

"How long?" David asked.

"A week at least."

* * *

_Cathatores: Present_

When Killian turned back to Emma a familiar brunette was chatting to her with a large grin on his face. "I see you've met my associate, Mr Phillip Gardner," he said, trying to keep the edgy (and very unnecessary) jealousy out his voice.

"You didn't tell me we had visits from nearly royalty down here," the young man teased.

Killian pursed his lips, "Yeah, well I didn't either until she showed up here."

Phillip's mouth dropped open in a small 'o' as a realisation dawned on him, he looked between Emma and Killian slowly. "Whatever you're thinking," she cut in quickly, "May I remind you I'm engaged."

Phillip's jaw set. "Yes to Gabriel Harthorn… Let me ask you, Miss Swan, does he make you happy?" he questioned, surprising both Killian and Emma with his seriousness.

"Yes, he does," Emma responded, "I wouldn't be marrying him if he didn't."

"Well let's hope not," Phillip joked but there was a lilting darkness to his tone Killian couldn't understand.

"Are you staying for a drink?" he asked, indicating to the many bottles behind him.

Shaking his head, Phillip declined, "No, I really must go but it was nice meeting you Miss Swan." He flashed her a warm smile before he turned on his heels and left the tavern.

"Well he's quite a character," Emma said, breaking the silence.

Killian smiled, "He's not usually so… queer. Must have had an off day."

With a shrug, Emma turned back to her drink. "So seeing as you seem to know _everything _about me," she said dryly, "how about you tell me a few things about yourself?"

"Not much to tell," he responded.

She titled her head, her hair falling from behind her ear. He ached to touch it, to brush it from her face and feel the golden strands between his fingertips. "Liar," she declared, dragging him from his torturous thoughts.

He raised a dark eyebrow, "And how do you figure that?"

"It's my superpower," she said without shame, "I can always tell when someone is lying."

As foolish as it would make him to believe her, he did. Without hesitancy and without doubt like it was the most natural thing in the world that Emma Swan was a walking breathing lie detector. "_Fine_," he surrendered, "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about you parents."

"My mother died when I was only a small lad then not many years after that I lost my father as well," he admitted, his voice low.

When he met her gaze, the emerald had melted into an understanding so deep he felt as if she was looking into his soul and listening to the mellow plucking of his heartstrings. "That's how you recognised the look of an orphan," she finally said. He simply nodded.

* * *

_Neverland: Three weeks ago_

Snow and Regina were trudging out of the forest, their feet aching from a long day of walking. "This would be a lot easier with someone who knew the island," Regina complained.

The other woman sighed, "Gold has helped as much as he can whilst also trying to get Emma and Hook back."

"But how long exactly is it go-"

"MARY MARGERET!" came a holler from the ship. Her head snapped up, her eyes focusing on her husband who was excitedly waving and indicating for the women to hurry up. After a curse word and a low mutter from Regina, they had run through the sand and were now walking up the gangplank.

"What is it?" Snow asked eagerly, "Did Gold-?"

"Yes, he did. He says he can get them back but he needs to talk to us," David replied before taking her hand and leading her down below deck where the imp was waiting for them.

"What's happened?" she asked.

"I've found our contacts," he answered.

"We figured as much," David replied snappily.

With a giggle, Gold said, "No need to be rude, dearie."

"Then tell us what we need to do."

"But of course," he said with his usual flourish. "I have found a family who have developed a drug which allows them to be immune to the memory alterations. They've been looking for a way to take down those who believe they are mortal angels or as they like to be called the Spéirham. But here's the catch-"

"There always is one," the prince muttered.

* * *

_Cathatores: Present_

Killian found a smile growing on his face as he watched her throw her head back as she laughed. "Oh that poor girl," she giggled (yes, _giggled_). "How ever did she come to the conclusion you two were engaged?"

"I was rather suggestive and she was quite poor at reading in between the lines," he said with a shrug.

"Well it is proper for a man to be married to his wife before he sleeps with her," she pointed out.

"It's not my fault she couldn't tell that I am not the sort of man to marry _any_ woman unless I've had her before," he returned.

Another mirthless laugh trilled from Emma. "What's wrong with that?" he cried indignantly, "If I'm going to be married to a woman I want to make sure she's at least _good_."

"But what if you really loved her? More than life itself. Would you still test her out?" she asked.

He paused, pretending to contemplate her question. "I am under the firm belief that any woman I come to love will have to be _amazing _in bed or else the world just wouldn't make sense," he concluded.

Emma rolled her eyes, her grin still stuck in place. "I believe," he said gently, "That you're rather drunk and that I should walk you home."

She shook her head, "I'm not that drunk, Jones."

He pursed his lips, "That's not how I see it."

"Just because I'm laughing at your jokes, doesn't mean I'm completely out of it. Though, I know that must be how you usually get people to laugh at your jokes," she taunted.

He sent her a playful glare. "Alright, if you're sober enough to insult me you can walk yourself home, Swan."

"Good," she quipped, "you're terrible company anyway."

He smirked, "But I'll be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Perhaps."

* * *

_Neverland: Three weeks ago._

"All magic comes with a price. I thought I've said that enough times," Gold replied to the grumpy looking blonde.

"Just tell us what the catch is, Gold," Snow interrupted impatiently.

"Only one of you can go to the other realm," he said, with slight irritation, "This is because we don't want to raise the suspicions of the Spéirham."

"What happens to the person who goes to their world?" David asked.

"At the moment, we don't know how long it will take your daughter and Hook to go through the 'healing process' so for the time being there will be training in the ways of their realm and finally, when Emma and Hook are placed into the civilisation a plan will be formed and carried out. All the mean time there will be contact to those here in Neverland." A pause. "So who will it be?"

The parents turned to each other, Snow nibbling her lip as David searched her face. "I think it should be me," he said finally, "You were the one who followed her through the portal and I don't think I can sit back and wait again."

Snow nodded slowly before turning to Gold again, "How will he get there? You said the Spéirham regulated all portal activity."

"That I did," he replied, "But there is a blind spot just outside one of the smaller cities of their world. Your prince will come out there, meet with our contacts and make their way back to their home."

"And when will I be going?" David asked.

"As soon as possible," Gold confirmed, "I will contact them and they will open up a portal on the beach near the ship." The two nodded, taking in all the information they just received. David took his wife's hand and gave it a short squeeze. This was progress, this was hope.

* * *

_**A/N:** I hope you enjoyed and I hope you're a bit clearer on what's going on? But don't worry if you're not, everything hasn't been explained and won't be for awhile._

_Leave a review! Let me know what you think :)_


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